Rise and Shine
by please-dont
Summary: <html><head></head>And I never wanted anything from you, except everything you had and what was left after that too.</html>
1. Chapter 1 - Subject A0

Hey ooooh! First story, feel free to send hate, I don't care, reviews are exciting no mater what. This is a mix between the movie and the books depending on what worked best with my story. I should mention that the below chapter is just an introduction, my actual story takes place three years later with Newt, Alby, Minho and the others. Just a heads up :P Please review, I love you. (Iloveyou) ((review)) (((iloveyou)))

Subject A0

The Maze was quiet and fresh, its ground smooth, its walls bare, a huge mass of shining metal and new concrete. In the centre was a patch of green, a living flag marking the focal point of the experiment. Saplings and adolescent trees rose to form the beginnings of a fledgling forest, and young grass shoots reached out of the warm dirt. There was no sound other than the wind shuffling the green leaves and exploring the twists and turns of the Maze. The whole structure was illuminated by waning sunlight, weakening as the sun dipped low towards the west wall.

Before it began to disappear, a large blaring alarm tore through the glade, echoing along the Maze and making insects freeze in their tracks and retreat into holes. The sound travelled deep into the Maze, carried far by the lack of any other noise. It reached something that it had not encountered before; it was not a wall of the Maze, or a concrete path. It was not a sapling, or a tree, or grass, or wind. The sound awoke something quite unlike anything else in the Maze. The sound awoke a Griever.

It had been frozen in its sleeping place where it had stopped purposeless previously that day. It clicked as the sound registered in its mechanical mind, a sound it had never heard before but somehow knew what it meant.

_Find, _it thought. _Find, find. _

As the alarm faded, the Griever's legs twitching to life, its sharp metal limbs clacked and sparked down the concrete alleys, a single thought driving it towards the noise. _Find, find, find._

Another noise, also unfamiliar, yet wonderfully promising replaced the sudden void left by the disappearance of the alarm. A voice crying, screaming for help, and feet scuffling against the Maze floor turned the Griever's thoughts wild. Its pace increased, excitement forcing ugly whirrs and clicks from its body as it scoured the Maze towards its first prey.

_Find! _It thought as it ran, _Find! Find!_

Then it stopped. Ahead, the small form stopped too. The Griever assessed the body in front of it with delicacy, taking in the pumping blood under its skin, the wide eyes and heavy breathing, and the long hair and small feet. The girl's face registered in its computer and the identification _Subject A0: Rosa_ arose on a screen far away, lighting up someone's face as they watched the scene unfold with their colleagues.

The Griever observed as the girl turned and began to run, its thoughts changing with an exhilarating menace that drove it forward in full sprint after her.

_Hunt,_ it thought, leaping up onto a ledge and taking a short cut that landed it in front of the girl's path. _Hunt. Hunt._

Rosa scrambled to a stop as the Griever fell heavily in front of her and with tears streaming down her face, took a sharp left down a side route and kept running. The Griever followed, screaming its thoughts aloud in a monstrous cross between deep animalistic growls and low mechanical clicks.

_HUNT! _The Griever leapt across a chasm and down the side of a wall, closing in on the girl from the east.

_HUNT! _It was herding her into what it somehow knew would be a dead end, its knowledge of the Maze as perfect and fresh as the computer in its body telling it everything it needed to know.

_HUNT!_ The girl skidded to a stop as she realised what had happened, loud wrenching sobs tearing from her throat as she turned to face the monster chasing her. The Griever approached her, its stinger outstretched, thoughts changing once again, right before the words _deceased_ were typed next to _Subject A0, _and a red line appeared across the girl's photograph on the far away screen.

_Kill, _thought the Griever as it lunged forward.

_Kill. _


	2. Chapter 2 - Rust

Rust

It was a normal day until lunchtime. Before lunchtime everything was going perfectly fine; the day was warm, there had been no problems mapping in the Maze, and Frypan's rather excellent breakfast meal was only just beginning to require a replacement. All in all, a good day for Newt.

They had finished early in the Maze, realizing that the overnight changes had been minimal and the labyrinth was mostly unchanged from the previous day. With a careful eye they had run the route just to make sure, and then he and Minho had returned to the Glade sweaty, exhausted, and in great desire of a meal.

"Oi Newt!" A voice shouted from behind him. Turning, Newt watched Nick jog up to him with a grin on his face.

"Hey Nick," Newt smiled, his grin turning cheeky as he added, "how can I help our glorious leader?"

Nick punched his arm lightly. "Don't be such a shank, I just wanted to ask you if you've forgotten what day it is."

Eyebrows quirked, Newt tilted his head. "Er… new supplies today…?" He guessed wildly, knowing that it had probably been roughly a week before he had tied the shoelaces to his new sneakers that adorned his feet that very moment.

Nick snorted. "Yeah klunkbrain, but what else?" He asked, somewhat sardonically.

Eyes widening, Newt realised what Nick was getting at. "New Greenie!"

"That's right, and they haven't arrived yet so get your butt over to the kitchen now and eat, that alarm'll be going off any second," Nick said, musing Newt's hair before running off in the direction Minho had walked when they had returned from the Maze. Nick liked everyone to be right there when the Newbies arrived; he figured it would be better for them to realise how many people were in the same scenario as them.

Newt arrived at the kitchen to find it quiet and mostly empty, a few Gladers sparsely populating the decrepit picnic tables huddled around the fire pit and roughly hewn wooden benches that made up Frypan's domain. The thatched roof was so well made that rain almost never leaked through, and the tables were sanded down into smooth splinter-less planks that revealed nothing of their humble origins (the far west cluster of trees in the Glade).

"Back already, Newt?" Frypan teased from his position leaning against a bench. "Where do you put it man, you're a twig."

"Not my fault your servings are so small, Fry," Newt grinned back, pulling himself up onto the bench next to Frypan.

"Hey! Get your shank ass off my bench, this is a kitchen slinthead!"

Frypan tackled Newt off the bench top and pushed him away from the kitchen, a scandalized expression on his face.

Newt laughed. "I'll be out of your hair with some lunch man, Nick says the Newbie will be arriving soon so I better hurry," he finished pointedly, hoping Frypan would take mercy on him and throw him a line.

With a humourously unimpressed look on his face, Frypan walked across the crude kitchen and heaved a large metal pot across to Newt. Landing it heavily on the very bench Newt had occupied seconds ago, Frypan ladled some of the stew into a bowl and handed it to Newt with a smile tugging on his mouth. "You're lucky I'm so nice, shank."

"Frypan you are a god amongst Gladers," Newt said sincerely, his expression somber.

He didn't even bother to sit, downing the stew with an impressively clean spoon (Frypan was legend worthy when it came to keeping his primitive kitchen clean), and handing Fry back the bowl with a grateful smile.

The anticipated alarm of the Box rang out through the Glade, and the prepared Gladers all began to flock towards the metal doors set into the earth. Fry jogged with Newt over to join them, and they made their way to the front of the throng to stand with Nick. Unsurprisingly, Gally had also made his way to the foreground, standing with his arms crossed and his Builder crew flanking either side of him.

The noises of the Box rising grew louder as the cage sped up towards them, and Newt almost smiled ruefully at the thought of the Greenie inside. He could remember First Day himself; when he had arrived there had been nowhere near as many Gladers, nor as many comforts like their brand new barn for the animals that had taken six months to complete, or the shining water tank that had just last week been scrubbed of rust and ready standing vigil for the next rainfall. This Greenbean had it easy compared to the first of them.

With an angry moan, the Box beneath their feet halted, and there was a tense moment of silence. Then, the metal doors flew open and folded to the sides, revealing the mesh cage below and its cargo; fresh supplies and fresh meat. The Newbie was obviously awake, shrinking into the far corner and blinking up at them like it was their first time in the sun.

Which, Newt supposed, it kind of was. With the others, he grabbed the mesh gates and pulled them open, the noise startling the Greenie who scrambled away from them as far as they could manage. With a slight smirk, Newt glanced at Nick who gave him a nod, and he jumped down into the Box. Making his way around some barrels, Newt looked at the Newbie properly for the first time. He frowned. Something was different.

Arriving in front of the cowering form, Newt crouched down to look them in the eye. Crisp blue eyes stared back at him from a smooth face, small hands reaching to the sides and trying to grasp something, anything that could be used as a weapon.

"It's a girl," Newt said in shock.

He heard his words being echoed by the Gladers above them, reaching all the way to the back of the group to the general confusion of everyone. Catcalls and crude shouts began nearly immediately, and the girl attempted to shrink even further into the corner. With a grimace he heard Nick land in the Box behind him, and glanced at his friend as the taller boy approached the girl. Her eyes flicked between the two of them with confusion and alarm.

"Hey," Nick said, crouching next to Newt. "It's okay, we're not gonna hurt you." The girl's expression did not change.

"What's your name?" Nick tried again. Silence. Staring.

Sending Newt a look, Nick kneeled on the metal floor. "Look we know you're scared, but you have to believe that we're here to help you. I'm Nick, this is Newt," he said, gesturing at the boy next to him. At his name, the girl's eyes flicked to Newt, only to return as Nick continued talking in a low, even voice. "Can you remember your name? They let us keep that."

His words brought a frown to the girl's face, and she leaned forward a bit but still didn't speak.

"Just bring her out already Nick," Gally shouted from the edge of the Box to the jeering cheers of his cronies. "We want to see her."

Nick ignored him with a tight look on his face. "Sorry," he said candidly. The girl made no acknowledgement that she had even heard his apology, her slightly narrowed eyes trained on Gally with a look that Newt could not deny was a little scary.

At her continued silence, Nick gave Newt another sideways look, and Newt shrugged. At Nick's emphatic look, Newt turned back to the girl and picked up where their Leader had left off.

"Look, we don't want to hurt you, really, those guys are just klunkheads. You can trust us, just tell us your name and we'll explain everything," he said slowly in what he hoped was an honest sounding voice.

The girl was looking at him, and he thought maybe she was a little placated by his words. He tentatively reached forward to help her stand, but the motion seemed to alarm her and she lashed out with a small but powerful fist.

His vision splintered and he felt a painful crunch as her fist connected with his face, falling backwards with a shout. He heard three thumps dulled from his pounding head as Minho, Alby, and Zart jumped into the Box to help him up, and felt a cloth being pressed to his face; blood was streaming down his chin and dripping through the mesh floor, falling away into the dark elevator shaft beneath them. He was vaguely aware of Nick shouting and Gladers laughing.

"-_back_ Gally, she's just scared, I _mean_ it Gally, it's not like you were any better on First Day."

Through his watering eyes he looked up to see Nick standing in front of the girl, his arm pressed against Gally's chest stopping the Builder from advancing any further. The girl was still pressed into the corner, watching the two boys in front of her with wide alert eyes, barely sparing a glance to the large, deafening crowd of gawking and guffawing boys surrounding the entrance to the Box.

"She's not been here five minutes and she's already broken one of your rules Nick!" Gally shouted. "This _girl_ is a bad sign and you know it!"

"Slim it Gally," Alby said from Newt's side. His tone was threatening and Gally sent him a challenging look. Before anything more could unfold, an unfamiliar voice cut the babble.

"Fuck off, all of you," the girl said loudly.

The Gladers fell silent, both those in and around the Box stopping their laughs and jokes and conversations and mutterings simultaneously as the girl's sharp words rang in their ears.

There was a beat of silence - and then uproar.

"Did she just-?"

"I can't believe it!"

"She's got a mouth on her!"

"What a slinthead!"

"She'll fit right in!"

"What the-?"

The girl spoke again, in the same fierce tone; "Seriously fuck off."

This did little to dull the roarings of the Gladers, and Newt felt Minho's shoulders shake with laughter at his side. Feeling an amused smile of his own curl his mouth, Newt slapped his friends on the backs in thanks for their assistance, wiped the last of the blood away, tucked the bloodied cloth into his pocket and stepped forward, crouching in front of her again.

His motions drew the girl's attention, and she looked a little taken aback by his reappearance which made sense given that his grin was accompanied by a bloody smear down his face.

"Don't do that again, please," he said with mocking seriousness.

"Go away," she replied.

Bemused, Newt sent her an exasperated look. "You'll have to come out eventually you know."

She gave him a chilling look and turned her face away, cutting off communication entirely. Burying her face in her arms, she curled herself into a small ball.

"Hey," Nick said, looking down at her. The girl did not respond.

"Hey!"

Minho stepped forward. "Hey. Hey, girl," he called. At her lack of response, he looked at Newt and found his bewilderment mirrored in his friend's face.

The Gladers were quiet again, all eyes looking down on the unresponsive form in the corner with similar expressions of confusion and bafflement.

Nick shuffled his feet awkwardly, looking back at his friends with a desperate expression as he recognized the need for him to do something but had no idea what it should be. Newt, Minho, and Alby all shrugged.

"Um," Nick said blandly. "Well, you're welcome to come out whenever." He shot a scared look over his shoulder at his friends, who nodded in encouragement. The girl wasn't moving or making any sort of response to his words, leaving the boys a little stranded for what to do. Usually Newbies freaked out crying, or tried to run, or came out shakily and made their jobs a little easier. They had no plan for this situation, and Newt was honestly rather enjoying watching Nick flounder.

"I guess… I guess we'll go then." Nick finished lamely, arm dropping from Gally's chest, now not needed thanks to the boy's stock still form and confounded manner.

Nick awkwardly backed away, and was helped out of the Box by another Glader. Newt followed, sparing a glance back at the girl's hunched form before jogging to catch up with Nick as he walked quickly away from the metal doors.

"What the bloody hell was that," Newt said in forthright shock as Gladers meandered off in all directions around them.

"I have no clue," came Nick's bewildered reply. "Absolutely no shucking clue."


	3. Chapter 3 - Door

Doors

There was little else spoken about for the rest of the day. Despite Nick's efforts, not all of the Gladers had been present for the arrival of the newest Glader, and the repetition of the tale was heard in full and occasionally grossly exaggerated detail countless times in the space between lunch and dinner. Newt walked into the kitchen to hear such an account being reenacted for a large group of boys roaring with laughter that evening.

"-and then, honestly she- go on Paul, fall back- and then she, I swear, socks him right in the nose like _that_ and then she goes- come on boys help me out here-" the speaker was joined by twenty different voices all chanting the girl's then infamous line: "FUCK OFF, ALL OF YOU!"

The laughter increased and Newt couldn't help but grin at the infectious mood. He gracefully accepted the cheers and shouts at his arrival with false bravado and many a bow (his own role in the story was one of the Gladers' favourite parts). Shoving his way over to Frypan, he greeted his friend with a grin. "All right Fry?" He shouted over the deafening antics of the boys around him.

"All right Newt," Fry shouted back, handing him his plate.

Newt was about to turn away when Frypan grabbed his arm, turning him back. "Hey Newt-" Fry passed him another plate and slapped his shoulder, "-take that to the girl yeah? I'm guessing she's hungry!"

Newt nodded and made his way back through the crowd, nearly losing both meals to the writhing mess of rampant teenage males. Breaking free of the tangle, Newt gasped in the cooling evening air with relish; areas with high concentration of Gladers often had the tendency to acquire a rather odd smell that reminded him of old shoes, onions, and sour milk.

Head ringing slightly from the noise, Newt set off towards the still open doors of the Box, eyeing his own dinner longingly. He watched as the sun slipped behind the west wall, and realised suddenly that the doors were about to shut for the first time since the girl arrived; maybe it was a good idea if he stuck around for that, just in case she freaked out.

Nearing the edge of the Box, Newt was struck with the inspiration to announce his arrival early so as to not startle the girl.

"Hey-" THUNK.

A shoe hit him in the forehead. He nearly dropped the plates.

"Bloody hell!" Newt yelled, kneeling hastily to the ground to place their dinners down before clutching his face in pain. "How many times are you going to injure me today?!"

"Well it's not even dark yet, I'll see how I go," a snide voice said from the Box.

With a lot less humour than he had managed on their previous encounter, Newt narrowed his eyes in the fading light at the girl in the corner. He was hungry, alone, and not in the mood to further damage his face.

"I see you're talking again," he said coolly, hopping into the Box and reaching up to pull the plates in with him.

He was met with silence, to which he rolled his eyes. "Funny," he said sarcastically, walking over to her. "Now if you're quite done hitting me in the face, I brought you dinner."

The girl gave Newt a look like he had just offered her raw slugs, but made no more verbal reply. He stood there holding the plate out for her for a moment longer, then relaxed, giving her yet another exasperated look.

"Do you want this or not?" He baited, hoping her hunger will get the better of her if she thought her meal was in danger of departing.

His plan failed, and he is met with yet more increasingly annoying silence and her ever critical glare. He cocked his eyebrow and set the food on the floor in front of her before settling down to eat his own. Whilst breaking into the bread roll and mopping up some of the spaghetti sauce, he glanced at her to see her watching him with that same icy look.

"You feel like telling us your name now?" He asked around a mouthful of carbohydrates. She remained motionless, though this is hardly surprising to him by then and he didn't miss a beat. "Ah well, I suppose we can just call you 'the girl', it's not like there's another to get you confused with."

He saw her tense up in his peripheral vision, and looked at her quickly. "Hey, it's okay, seriously, nothing's going to happen. You remember that bloke Nick?" He waited half-heartedly for some kind of encouraging response, a nod, a noise, anything, but none came. He continued, a little dejected, "well he's a great guy, even if he does have klunk for brains and a mug like a Griever."

She was still looking at him like he was completely jacked but he didn't mind, luckily for her, with food in front of him Newt could put up with a lot more whack than usual. He noted the increasingly low angle of the sun and felt a fleeting sense of obligation to warn her of the impending events, but his forehead was still pounding and his nose felt raw and grating every time he took a bite, and with a little spite he stayed quiet. Any second…

On cue, an impossibly deep grinding screech cut through the evening calm and distant laughter that had settled across the Glade. In the corner of his eye Newt saw the girl jump and look around in panicked alarm. The noise continued as the Door slid shut for the night, and Newt was about to chuckle and make a joke when he suddenly heard her starting to hyperventilate.

"Hey- Hey woah, it's okay, it's oka-" he hastily shoved his plate away and scrambled over to her where she sat, her breathing ragged and tears dripping apparently unconsciously down her face as she stared up at the sky. As he drew close she flung out her arms and shoved him away before returning to her curled position and her raw sobbing. Unsure of how to proceed, Newt stayed there for a second longer, but sensing her lack of desire to be around other people, retreated back to his dinner.

It was another half a minute before the noises of the Door stopped, but her heavy breaths and tearing sobs did not stop. Newt suddenly felt extremely unwanted, and stood with his plate. Turning to her, he was about to tell her that he'll leave the food in case she wanted it later and that she should come and sort out a bed, but thought better of it and simply turned away.

Perhaps a night alone in the Box was what she needed anyway. Perhaps it was what it would take to convince her to leave it.


	4. Chapter 4 - Hide and Seek

Hide and Seek

The next morning was rudely introduced to Newt by the loud rasping shouts of none other than Gally. Groaning and wondering what kind of commotion the slinthead was causing now, Newt dragged himself from his hammock and pulled on his pants. After battling with the laces of his sneakers for a good two minutes, Newt hauled himself out of the Homestead and towards the source of Gally's latest disapproval. Unsurprisingly, this was the Greenie, apparently still in the Box.

"If she doesn't get out, we won't get supplies," Gally said harshly, standing at the edge of the Box and shouting at Nick who was stationed on the opposite ledge.

"Seriously Gally, cut the girl some slack, it's not like there's any other girls here to help her-" Minho was cut off by Gally mid-sentence.

"You may be the Keeper of the Runners Minho, but I don't remember you having any kind of actual authority here," Gally said sharply.

"You know, sometimes you're such a piece of sniveling klunk Gally, you utter, complete-" Minho was interrupted yet again as Newt arrived.

"Well good morning to you shanks too," he said pointedly, yawning widely.

Nick appeared relieved at his arrival, and quietly asked Minho to find Alby. As Minho retreated after throwing Gally one last dirty look, Nick turned back to Newt.

"You talked to her last night yeah? Did she say anything?"

Newt peered into the Box, clocking the girl and the plate he had left for her in exactly the same positions they had been in the previous night. "Nah, not yet. Threw a shoe at me though," he said distantly as he surveyed the scene.

"Right, well, Gally here thinks we should pull her out and let the Box go back down," Nick continued, shooting him a concerned look.

Newt shook his head. "Bad idea Nick, she's not overly fond of people touching her, or being near her." He thought for a second. "She doesn't seem overly fond of people in general actually."

"If she doesn't get out, the Box won't go back," Gally repeated.

"Gally we have a week before the next supplies are due to arrive, I think we can give it some time," Newt said, amused.

Gally's face twisted in annoyance, and he stalked off. Nick gave a long, tired sigh and rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes. "He had me up half the night telling me the Newbie is a bad sign and we shouldn't trust her," he said, sounding exhausted. "Wouldn't give it a rest, I had to get Alby and Winston to make him back down and let us all get some sleep."

"Don't mind him Nick," Newt said brightly, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "He's a klunkhead if I ever saw one."

"Morning, Nick," Alby's voice said from behind them. The pair turned to see Minho back with Alby, looking as serious as ever.

Nick gave Alby a tight nod, and Minho a thankful glance, before he turned back to the Box and addressed the girl inside.

"Hey, you want to come have some breakfast?" He called. The group was unsurprised at the following silence.

"We can show you around, if you like," Alby called, resting his hands on his knees as he crouched by the entrance. "Introduce you and get you a hammock sorted."

Nothing.

"Uhh, Nick?" Minho asked from next to them.

"Yeah?"

"Is it just me or does Gally and his posse look like they mean trouble?" Minho said gravely, nodding across the field.

They all turned to look in the direction he indicated, to see the Builders marching towards them with Gally leading the formation, a determined expression on his features.

Arriving at the Box, the Builders began jumping down into the cage below without hesitation. The girl tensed, but didn't move or look up.

"What are you doing Gally?" Nick demanded in a low voice.

"Getting her out," Gally replied somewhat nastily as he and four other Gladers seized the girl.

Newt started forward but Alby held out a hand in front of his chest; although the method was crude, there was no denying that they needed to get the supplies out of the Box and for it to return to wherever it came from. For now, they would have to tolerate Gally's methods.

The girl made surprisingly little effort to resist them, and allowed them almost placidly to lift her from the Box and haul her up onto the grass.

As soon as her light pink sneakers hit the grass and the Builders' hands had let her go, the girl's foot lashed out, striking Gally between the legs before she took off sprinting towards the forest. Gally fell, crying out in pain, and the rest of the Builders shouted in alarm as the girl disappeared. Newt joined them in pursuit, but the surprise of her attack and the speed she arrived at the tree line meant that by the time they had arrived at the forest themselves, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Shuck," Minho swore. "What if she goes into the Maze?"

Alby looked grim. "Let's just hope she doesn't," he said as his eyes scanned the forest around him. He turned to Newt. "Go ask the Bricknicks and the Map-makers to come help us look for her, we better find her before sundown," he said in a surprisingly concerned voice.

Newt nodded and left to organize the search party, the beauteous image of Gally being kicked right in the eggs on repeat in his head.

* * *

><p>The Doors were grinding shut and they had still not found the girl. Alby, Nick, and Newt stood by the Homestead watching their fellow Gladers turn in for the night with varying levels of concern on their faces, ranging from Nick who looked like he had just lost a child, to Gally who appeared as if he had just been handed a very large lump of gold.<p>

Regardless of how much they cared however, all the Gladers seemed to understand with little to no communication what it meant if the girl had found her way into the Maze by mistake. Not knowing where she was or how to stay safe put the girl at serious danger, danger she could be facing at that very moment.

Newt let out a long breath and dragged his hands down his face; he had run the Maze with Minho and the others as usual, but despite their intention of perhaps finding some kind of clue as to the girl, they had come up empty handed and losing hope.

"What do we do?" Newt asked the two boys next to him, a cold drop of rain falling on his head, promising a stormy night.

Nick sighed heavily. "I don't know. Wait, I guess." He looked uncomfortable for a moment and then turned to Alby. "Go tell Minho to get the Runners to look for her in the Maze tomorrow. Her or, you know…"

_Her body._

The unspoken words pressed down on the three Gladers, emphasized perfectly by the drizzling rain that had chosen that particular night to plague them.

Alby gave a nod and walked away, leaving Nick and Newt drawing further and further into the Homestead, and away from the cooling night air. There was a definite sense of heavy implication accompanied with going inside to bed at that particular moment that Newt could almost feel; it was like turning around right now and walking away meant that yes, they were giving up on the girl who had not been in the Glade two days and was most likely at this very moment somewhere alone, cold, scared, and soaking wet. Nick seemed to feel it too, and he looked as uncomfortable as Newt felt at the thought of going inside.

They stood there the two of them for ten minutes, watching the Glade dampen with the rain and the last of the sun's light slip away before they could make their excuses and retreat to their hammocks.

That night, the Runners were envied even less than usual. No one was looking forward to the prospect of finding the girl's dead body the next day.


	5. Chapter 5 - Dried Blood

Dried Blood

For the second morning in a row, Newt was awoken by shouting. With a groan he sat up and repeated his routine from the previous day with his battle with pants and shoe laces before stumbling out of the Homestead and up to Alby who was standing nearby.

"What's happening?" Newt said groggily.

"They found her," Alby said in a grim tone. His voice made Newt freeze, wondering what state the girl was discovered in. Alby noticed his expression and gave him a wry smile. "She's alive. Minho found her in the forest, we think she climbed a tree and fell out in the rain, she was unconscious, they took her to the Med-jacks ten minutes ago."

Newt returned his smile in thanks and jogged in the direction of the Med-jacks where he knew he would find Nick and probably also Gally; Nick would need a friend right now.

He entered the Med-jack's shack and looked around; there was only one bed filled and it was surrounded by enough Gladers to make the whole little hut hard to move in, and there was an uncomfortable clamminess to the air.

Using his litheness to his advantage, Newt made his way as painlessly as possible to the front of the room where he found Nick looking deceptively calm, standing by a low stretcher made from pulling a sheet across two long sticks, padding, and a thin feather pillow. The girl lay mostly still but Newt could see her eyes moving underneath her lids and there was a slight frown twitching on her brow as if she were in a bad dream. Clint and Jeff were kneeling around her and reaching across her shoulder, their hands pressed onto her skin. It was only then that Newt saw the dark bruising blooming around her neck and down her arm, and the uncomfortably unnatural angle of her shoulder socket.

Grimacing, he turned to the muttering crowd and raised his voice. "Oi you lot! Bugger off and leave the girl in peace, Nick'll be just fine supervising her by himself, we don't need the whole bloody Glade in here to help him!" Waving his hands at them for emphasis, Newt ushered the boys in the general direction of the door.

There were a few disappointed calls but slowly the crowd wheedled their way out of the shack, shooting interested glances back at the form on the bed, shared comments and opinions ranging from whispers to shouts. Sighing as he closed the door, Newt revelled in the great silence that followed the boys' departure.

"Thanks," Nick said distractedly, not taking his eyes off the girl.

"Good that," Newt dismissed with a half-smile that didn't light his eyes.

"We're going to have to reset it, Clint's done it before but I haven't," Jeff reported, his eyes wide and nervous. Although Newt was not overly encouraged by these words, Clint gave him a tight grin.

"Slim your panicking Newt, Jeff's a decent Med-jack, he'll be alright," the boy said as he and Jeff readied themselves to set the girl's shoulder.

This did little to boost Newt's confidence in the newer less experienced Med-jack, but he saved voicing his concerns and stood beside Nick.

"On three," Clint said quietly. "One, two-"

The two boys pushed down and a dull sickening crack emitted from the girl's joint. She made no visible reaction, and Newt was suddenly glad that she had fallen unconscious; he doubted the girl would have let them close enough to help her in the first place, let alone trust them at all after that much pain.

"She should be okay now," Clint said uneasily, his hands pressing into her joint as he checked it for further damage. "Maybe some bruising and pain for a few days, but it went okay." He offered Jeff a smile here, which the boy accepted despite the half horrified half proud look in his eyes.

"Good that," Nick said with too much cheer. "She'll be up in no time, hopefully those shuckheads won't freak her out so much this time and we can get some food into her, this is day three she hasn't eaten anything."

There was a beat of silence whilst the four boys surveyed the slightly trembling girl on the bed in front of them, as if they were once again struck with the bizarreness of seeing a woman after three years and the odd nature of her behaviour on top of this.

"Well, I better get back to the maps and start pulling my weight," Newt said clapping his hands decisively. "I missed my run yesterday and Minho'll tear me a new one if I don't-"

"No, Newt, you stay here. You too Clint. You two will be watching her and make sure no one tries to pull anything hilariously funny before she wakes up," Nick said with a slightly unnerving darker undertone to his sarcasm. "Best thing we can do now is try to get the Glade back to normal, and I trust you guys to take care of her. When Alby gets off work I'll send him in too, then most of those slintheads will be too intimidated to come anywhere near her," he finished with a flash of a grin.

Newt was a little taken aback by their Leader's rebuke of his suggestion, but all the same plonked himself down on one of the shanty chairs in the shack and made a scene out of settling down and folding his arms. Nick looked less amused than he had hoped, but the two boys at least parted on a slightly upbeat note as Nick left the shack with Jeff trailing behind him, still looking a bit shellshocked.

Newt and Clint both jumped as a strange noise filled the room; it took them a second to realise that it was the girl's stomach rumbling, exemplifying Nick's concern of her lack of food.

"She'll be ravenous when she wakes up, this much shock in three days," Clint said conversationally as he turned to tidy up his workbench behind the girl.

"I'll ask Fry to get her something extra," Newt assured him.

With a curt nod, the two boys fell into an ever so slightly awkward silence; Newt wasn't one to struggle in social situations in the Glade being very used to the way his fellow Gladers thought and acted, but Clint had always been a little quiet and he was one of the boys Newt didn't know as well as others. He thought wistfully of Minho out running in the Maze, and for the first time since his appointment as a runner, he wished for a moment that he too could join his best friend out there.

Sighing, he settled down further in the chair and set his gaze on the girl. The sharp eyes that had glared at him on First Day were closed, but her face was as pale as ever, if not a little sickly looking with the sheen of sweat and the crease between her eyebrows. She had a small mouth and pale eyebrows that formed light arches on a wide forehead. Her long blonde hair was tangled, chaotic, and spattered with twigs, bits of leaf, and dirt. She looked a mess. From what Newt remembered from his own First Day, having a bath was definitely one of the things that had made him feel better. He thought about asking Clint to get a message out to organise a separate bath for her away from the boys' one; hygiene in the Glade consisted of warm water boiled over a fire poured into a pit in the ground lined with huge sheet of plastic that had been sent up in the Box. Whoever wanted to get clean jumped in first, and whoever wanted to stew in the sweat and dirt of thirty other boys jumped in last. Looking at this from an outsiders' point of view, Newt found it hard to imagine this prospect would be particularly appealing to the girl, however desperate the desire to bathe was.

He was about to call out to Clint when he remembered Nick's words and stopped himself; Nick was under a lot of pressure right now, he didn't want to go changing the boy's plans without permission, if even for a moment. Deciding that he'd ask the next boy who entered the shack rather than sending Clint away, Newt relaxed and leaned his head back against the back of the chair. He let his eyes close and felt his early wake up come back to haunt him. Surely a short nap wouldn't hurt anyone…

"_newt…."_

"Newt…"

"NEWT!"

Someone was shaking his arm and Newt sprang awake with a jolt. "Bloody hell Clint, who died?" He said a little spitefully as he rubbed his eyes.

"She's awake."

Newt froze. He lifted his head and was greeted by the cool gaze of the newest Glader, and a nervous looking Clint who was most definitely standing a little behind him as if to put something in between him and the girl.

No one said anything for a moment.

"Hi," Newt said lamely.

The girl raised an eyebrow with an incredible amount of impudence.

"Er-" Newt wondered if he should go get Nick, or Alby, or Minho, or anyone but before he could make a move the girl spoke.

"Where am I?"

He gaped at her, and was vaguely aware that Clint was doing the same. She looked extremely unimpressed. When she received no immediate reply, she rolled her eyes like she was late for a mildly important appointment, and not surrounded by strangers in the middle of a deadly maze, recently recovered from injuries that rendered her unconscious for two days, and unable to remember anything about her life.

"Where are we?" She tried again.

Newt grappled with words. "Just sit tight, girl, Nick'll be here soon, he'll set things right."

She folded her arms, leaned back against the wall and scowled at them, as if daring them to come closer. Newt turned to Clint purposefully. "What time is it?"

"Around midday. Runners aren't back yet but I already sent Jackson to find Nick and Alby. They'll be here soon."

Newt nodded and glanced back at the girl. She was still looking at them with disconcerning venom.

"Do you remember your name?" Newt asked her. Clint looked at him like he had just asked a Griever to dance.

Her silence was really beginning to grate, and Newt felt a flicker of annoyance burn through him. "You have to talk some time you know, you can't just be a sack of mute klunk for the rest of your life," he snapped.

Her following lack of words felt less like her normal silence and more like a deliberate retaliation to his words, which drew a pissed off grumble from his throat and put a frown on his face.

Luckily, Nick and Alby entered at that moment and Newt watched as the girl's expression faltered for a second at the new arrivals revealing the briefest fragments of the usual fear, confusion, and panic that dominated most greenies' first week.

"You're awake, good, Clint would you go ask Frypan to get us some food?"

Clint looked all too happy to follow Nick's request and sped from the room without looking back.

Nick sat down on the girl's bed and she scooted away from him, only stopping when she reached the end of the bed. Nick held up his hands like a surrender as Alby took his place standing archly beside Newt.

"Don't worry, we won't hurt you, we want to help," Nick said calmly. Newt suddenly marvelled at the boy and his unfailing patience with Newbies of every variety of reaction, whether the violent kind, the crying kind, or the silent kind. His own lack of tolerance for the girl's behaviour suddenly embarrassed him, and he resolved to try be more like Nick.

"You've already said that," the girl said in a curt tone.

Nick's mouth twitched at the corners, suppressing a smile as he continued. "What's your name?"

"Why can't I remember anything?" was the response.

Nick slowly lowered his hands from where they had been up in the air. "We call this place the Glade, and the people in it – us, that is – Gladers. You have to understand that we're not here to hurt you. In fact we're the only ones who can help you right now."

The girl was quiet for a moment, processing what he had said. "Why are there no other girls?" Was her next question.

Nick's expression tightened. "We don't know, you're the first one in two and a half years."

The girl's eyes widened. "You've been here for two and a half years?" She repeated slowly with a waver in her voice. Newt saw her eyes begin to water as if she was trying not to cry.

Nick nodded as Alby stepped forward. "We know how hard this is," the boy said, "we've all been in your shoes, but the best thing for you to do right now is to tell us your name, have some food, and try to keep going."

The girl surveyed Alby, her usual sharp expression weakened a little by the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "No," she said quietly.

"No?" Newt asked from his chair.

Her gaze turned to him and he resisted the urge to look away. "No, I won't tell you my name."

The boys didn't say anything but their question was clear.

"Because it's all they left me with," she continued in a small voice. "It's all I remember, and I'm keeping what little I have left to myself."

The silence following this statement was conveniently interrupted by Clint returning with a huge plate of bacon, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, a hot bread roll, and an apple held carefully in his hands. The girl's eyes trained onto the plate quickly, but oddly enough when it was placed before her she didn't reach out for it.

"It's for you," Nick encouraged with a smile.

The girl didn't take her eyes off the food, but she didn't touch it either.

"Come on Girl, you gotta eat something or you'll not make it through the week in this place," Newt piped up in a cheery tone that didn't match his statement. She seemed to appreciate the cold humour in his statement because she flashed him a sardonic look and slowly picked up the bread roll and bit into it. With a taste of the food her reserve seemed to vanish instantly and she tore into the roll again with relish, finishing the thing in half a minute flat.

"There you go," Newt said with a laugh as she replaced the roll with some bacon. Even Alby was smiling at her enthusiasm. Clint was busying himself on the other side of the shack, far enough for him to not have to speak but close enough to hear what was happening.

"Girl's got an appetite on her," Nick grinned approvingly.

"Don't ever underestimate me," Girl said around a huge mouthful of bacon, earning a laugh and even bringing a smile to her own face.

As she picked up the fork Clint had left beside the plate and started on the potato and broccoli, she showed no signs of retreating back into silence. Newt leaned forward, hoping to keep her in conversation rather than let her withdraw again.

"So Girl, want to have a look around the Glade after lunch?" He asked in what he hoped was an easy tone.

She looked nervous, but nodded, swallowing her mouthful before answering. "Okay," she said with obvious apprehension.

Nick slapped her on the shoulder like they'd been friends for years. "Don't worry Girl, you'll be fine. Gladers are the nicest people you'll ever meet."

"They're the only people you'll meet," Newt joked.

"Regardless, we're a good bunch, I promise," Nick assured her, smiling.

"Though there are a few pieces of klunk to look out for," Alby said from his place beside Newt. "Watch out for that Gally and his builders, and Ernie and his bunch can be a bit rough. Just stick as close to Newt and Nick as you can and you'll be fine."

"Real encouraging, Alby," Newt said rolling his eyes.

Girl gave a laugh, a small, tentative sound like she was testing whether or not it was acceptable for her to do so. They all looked at her in surprise, and she looked uncharacteristically embarrassed, looking down at her disappearing meal hastily. Nick, Newt, and Alby all shared a quick smile before returning to conversation.

"You're lucky arriving when you did," Newt told her as the last of her meal vanished. "We're having something of a party tonight."

"You don't have to go if you don't want," Nick said hastily, shooting Newt a look. "It's just something we do every couple of months to keep morale up."

"I want to go," Girl said bravely, licking her fingers and pushing the plate away.

"You sure G? It's mostly just a bunch of boys being klunkheads with a bonfire and some dodgy brew," Newt mock warned.

"Yeah," she said slowly, appraising him. "Yeah I'm sure." Without warning she burst into tears.

Newt looked at Nick and Alby in alarm. Nick gave him a sad smile, and he suddenly remembered the amount of crying he had done himself in his first week in the Glade. The three boys (and the distant Clint) said nothing as G sat on her bed crying loudly, pulling up the blanket to hide her face and stifle her sobs, but somehow Newt didn't think she would consider them judging her.

There was an understanding in the air; all of them knew why she was crying, there was no apology or explanation needed.

Being in the Glade was as terrifying now as it had been the first week, Newt thought. They're all just a little more used to it.


	6. Chapter 6 - Hammock

A/N: Thank you so much to all those reading this story, and to those who reviewed :) You have a special place in my heart, thank you thank you thank you :P

Hammock

Girl followed Nick and Alby outside, tailed closely by Newt who was on the lookout for the return of the runners; it was high time he and Minho had a catch up. Newt turned his attention back to the front of the group where Girl was looking around at the tall walls encasing them with wide eyes.

"Didn't you see them before?" He asked her.

She shook her head. "I wasn't looking the first day, and yesterday I was too busy running from you psychos to go sight-seeing," she said sharply.

Newt held his hands up the same way Nick had when he had sat on her bed. "Woah G, slim it I was just wondering."

She regarded him as they walked for a moment. "What does that mean, 'slim it'?"

Newt gave a little laugh. "Yeah we have a lot of slang to pick up. Slim it is just chill, or shut up."

G nodded seriously. "And 'klunk'?"

"Means shit."

"Slinthead?"

"Idiot, or asshole."

"Shuck?"

"Pretty much the same."

"Shank?"

"Er, yeah again the same thing. We're very original here."

G's expression remained impassive as she absorbed the new vocabulary. She looked up at him suddenly and stared him dead in the eye. "That's stupid," she declared bluntly.

"I'm sorry?" Newt asked, a little taken aback.

"Your slang. It's stupid. I don't want to use it."

"That may be fine and dandy, G," Nick said from in front of them, "but there's no way you're going to get the rest of us to stop so you'll just have to deal with it."

"Why are you calling me G?"

"G for girl," Nick said with a wink. "If you won't tell us your name you have to accept the name you're given, shank."

G scowled a bit at the obviously deliberate use of Glader slang, but didn't protest further. Newt laughed.

"Lighten up G, you'll get use to this kind of klunk after about a week," he said lightly, ignoring her frosty look.

It seemed that the Newbie would take a while to warm up to Glader life.

The group arrived at the Homestead where several boys were enjoying their breaks swinging in their hammocks and laughing with each other. When the stragglers saw the group approaching, their chatting quietened and they stared rather blatantly at G who was regarding them similarly to how she had just looked at Newt.

"Get back to work boys, we have a Newbie to sort out," Alby said pointedly, waving his hands at the Gladers.

The boys slowly stood without a word and walked away silently, their long glances over their shoulders curious and almost fascinated.

"If that's how everyone here is going to be I want to go back in that box," G said in an annoyed voice.

Nick smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. Newt was surprised to note that she didn't react as badly as she had when he had tried to comfort her in the Box on her first night; she stiffened a little under the contact but otherwise gave no protest. Perhaps she was accepting them faster than he had first thought.

"Give them a few days to get used to having a girl around, most of the boys here haven't seen you properly yet and they're all pretty shocked," their Leader said in an even voice.

G didn't look appeased. "What's the big deal, it's not like I have extra limbs or some shit," she muttered grumpily.

Nick shook his head at her with a grin on his face, patting her shoulder as he turned away. Alby had gone to retrieve a spare hammock from the back cupboard and called to Newt to help him put it up. At this, G whirled around.

"You want me to sleep here?"

The three boys looked at her blankly.

"_Here?"_ She emphasised.

Their expressions did not change.

"In a room with a thousand random guys I don't know?"

"There's only fifty thr-"

"I literally do not give a shit Newt," she said sharply, cutting him off. "Let me sleep in the box thing or something."

"That's gone already," Newt said, a little sullen at her harshness. "It goes back down after the Newbie leaves."

G looked at him with disbelieving eyes, and Newt once again wondered at his budding theory that her biting tone, curt replies, and icy glares were defence mechanisms for coping with her fear.

"Nick!" Minho's voice called from their left. They all turned to see the Keeper of the Runners approaching them, still in his running gear. "I gotta talk to you, unless you're busy?" Minho asked, casting G an intrigued look.

"No, no, let's go." Nick turned to Newt, Alby, and G as he walked away backwards after the retreating Minho. "Newt, set her up next to you and make sure there's no funny business with the others. Alby, you good to move to her other side for a while?"

At his second in command's wordless nod, Nick gave a thumbs up and pivoted to run after Minho who was already out of earshot. Newt clapped his hands together with a playful look on his face.

"Right then missy, let's get your hammock up and your bodyguards situated!"

G's expression showed no appreciation of his humour, but nor did she snap back; encouraged at her progress, Newt cheerily helped the girl hang her hammock whilst Alby moved his own to the beams on her other side. "Don't worry about that," Newt said in a more serious tone when he saw her cast a nervous look at the precautions being taken for her. "It's just in case some shuckface decides to cut all your hair off, or put mud in your hammock or some klunk."

She nodded, but her worried look did not vanish despite being smothered in one of annoyance at his response. He shot Alby a smile which the other boy returned; it was painfully obvious what the girl was doing with all her attitude, a response to the Glade they had seen in many a Greenie before.

After the hammocks were sorted, Newt dusted off his hands and turned to his two cohorts. "Right, that's all done, what do you want to do now?"

G slowly got into her new hammock and lay down with a sigh, swinging lightly. "These are comfy," she conceded in a reluctant voice. Noticing yet another grin pass between the two boys, she scowled quickly and said, "Tell me about this stupid place then, why haven't you left yet?"

Newt huffed out a large breath as he too collapsed into his hammock and looked over at her stony expression with a beam. "We're tried everything, don't think you have any smart ideas. All we know is that once a month a new Glader comes up in that Box, and that everyone who goes out those Doors-" he flicked his finger at the huge gap in the Maze wall in front of them, "-and doesn't get back before they close, never comes back."

She stared at him. "What happens to them?" she whispered hoarsely after a long moment.

"There's a reason the Doors shuts every night," Alby said darkly from beside them. "If they didn't we'd have all died the same day we arrived."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Grievers." Alby's tone made Newt shiver, a reflex reaction to the creatures he couldn't help, despite having never actually seen one in the flesh. Most Gladers only ever heard them as they scoured the Maze at night, and frankly, even that was too close an acquaintance.

"Grievers?" G asked, not noticing Newt's response or understanding what had put the grim expression on Alby's face.

"Monsters in the Maze, but Nick'll tell you more on the Tour tomorr-"

"Maze?"

Alby looked up at Newt quickly, his mistake written all over his face. "I-"

"It's a Maze?" G's voice was louder but a lot more shaky, like she was nearing hysterical but attempting to remain coherent. "A Maze and we're what, in the middle trapped?" She gave a half manic laugh. "What the fuck is going on?"

The boys didn't answer, not really knowing the answer themselves. G drew her knees up into her chest and let her head fall into her hands. They could hear her whispering to herself, something fast and scared, but didn't bother trying to make out her words; this was also a pretty standard part of a Newbie's first week.

It was five minutes later that she was crying again, her whisperings slowly descending into sobs that eventually dampened her cheeks and left her body shaking. Newt and Alby remained on either side of her, both wishing to leave but knowing that Nick wouldn't be happy if they did. They were both extremely grateful when they finally saw their Leader returning at a jog.

Nick clocked the scene quickly and with a practised eye. "Alright you two, go find something to do," he dismissed them as he pulled a stool over to beside the girl and reached out to lightly touch her back, alerting her to his presence.

Newt left at the same hurried pace as Alby, and unlike the boys from before, he didn't look back. Sometimes Newbies just needed a little privacy.

* * *

><p>Newt dragged his sleeve across his brow before heaving another log onto their already impressive pile of wood in the middle of the bonfire pit; standing more than five feet tall, the wood promised a long and roaring fire for that night's celebration. The parties were thrown once every couple of months as often as they could be arranged as a way of keeping the Gladers in as good spirits as possible, and also helped smooth over kinks that snagged in their community between individuals every now and then. There was neither a method of sorting out conflict between the boys better than some of Gally's mysterious but effective brew and a little wrestling in the dirt, nor anything that provided better entertainment.<p>

Turning to his fellow workers, Newt suggested they take a break which was enthusiastically enacted, and he sat down on a nearby log that performed admirably as a fire side bench. Taking a large gulp of water, he surveyed their preparations with a proud eye; the bonfire was built in a secure tall peak, barrels of Gally's brew were being lugged over from where the Builder made the stuff over beside the woods, a few Gladers were bringing their makeshift instruments over from the Homestead, and Fry was setting up his regular stall with sausages, chunky soup served in mugs, coarse bread, and an impressive range of fruits grown not a hundred feet to the West. Things were going perfectly.

Which was really quite lucky, he thought, as he observed the descending sun and the dulling light of the Glade emphasising the arriving evening and the beginning of the party. Boys were emerging from around the Glade and making their way almost instinctively towards to bonfire pit, coming out of the Homestead, the woods, and the gardens like bugs out of woodwork.

Their celebrations always took swing quickly, the stress and hard work of Glader life being eagerly abandoned in favour of a casual, easy going atmosphere that was comfortably adopted by the boys with a heartier, rawer tone that led to scuffles and good natured confrontations throughout the night. It was dark quickly and the boys cheered as Nick arrived to pick up the first torch and throw it onto the awaiting bonfire. The flames roared up and blasted heat and light onto the shouting Gladers, who by now were mostly tipsy and rapidly approaching drunk, if not simply intoxicated by the mood in the air.

Uncharacteristically, the party dulled not long after the bonfire was lit, and the boys stood quietly with no more than a few low murmurings and plenty of sideways looks. The cause of this lull was none other than the arrival of G, who stood beside Alby looking incredibly embarrassed but also like she'd punch anyone who came near her. The Gladers stared, and for a good minute no one moved.

"Well give me a bloody drink then," G said archly, breaking the silence.

A laugh spattered the gathering, and a little awkwardness was lifted as a boy handed her a mug of the infamous brew. They looked on eagerly to witness her first reaction to the drink, an experience many Greenies found extremely unenjoyable to the great entertainment of their audience. G took a gulp of the rugged drink and grimaced.

"God, is this fucking second hand or something?" She exclaimed. When they realised what she was implying, the Gladers erupted with laughter once more, and the awkwardness disappeared entirely. Newt watched as Alby directed the girl through the party which was rapidly regaining its previous vigour, and sat her by the fire. He saw Gally look over with a stormy expression, probably from her open insult to his brew and begin to make his way over to the Greenie. Newt hurried over and took the seat on her other side before the Builder could get there, offering a greeting grin at Alby and not even earning an acknowledgement from G.

"How do you like the party?" He called to her over the noise of the celebration.

"It's loud and smells bad," she replied frankly, but Newt saw a lighter tone to her expression than he had ever seen and smiled.

"You'll get used to the smell, and it won't be as loud after a few more of those," he laughed, indicating to the drink still in her hands and taking a swig of his own.

She went to say something but stopped, only to try again. "Nick told me about the Builders and the Runners and the Track-hoes and stuff."

"Yeah? Where do you think you'll end up?"

"Sloppers," she said without a moment's thought.

Newt grinned. "Why there, then?"

"I have no idea what kind of person I was before this, but I have a feeling I was completely useless," she said candidly.

Newt snorted into his drink as Alby turned to them and stood. "I'm going to hang out with Winston for a bit, you good here?" he asked Newt.

With a nod and a "yeah" that dragged on a bit too long thanks to the drink in his hands (which had had four predecessors), Newt waved goodbye to Alby.

G downed the rest of her drink with another rather revolted look on her face.

"Want another?" Newt asked a little sarcastically.

G frowned at her empty cup. "Yeah," she replied simply, getting up and walking towards the group of boys serving the drink on the other side of the fire. When she returned her mug was so full she was spilling it on the walk back.

"Woah, easy there Greenie," Newt said, eyeing her mug as she sat down.

She ignored him, taking another gulp and settling back against the log, looking around the party with reserved interest. "How long have you been here?" She asked curiously.

"Two years."

He thought he heard her neck crack as her head swivelled around to stare at him. "Two years? You're still here after two years? What have you being _doing?"_

Annoyance shot threw him and coloured his reply. "We haven't just been sitting around if that's what you're implying," he snapped. "Minho and the Runners map the Maze every day after it changes during the night, trying to find a way out."

She followed his gaze and surveyed Minho who looked up to catch them staring at him. The Runner stood and came over, taking Alby's vacant seat with a huff.

"What are you shanks staring at?"

"I was just explaining to G that we do not in fact sit around doing shuck all every day," Newt shot out with some venom.

Minho looked a little surprised at his reply and turned his gaze to G. "You got a problem with the way we do things, Greenie?"

"Well you're still here, so yeah."

Minho's face darkened at her sarcastic reply. "I wouldn't go around saying klunk like that too loudly, Greenbean, not when you'll be living with us from now on. It hasn't always been bonfire party and happy camper hammocks, we've had to bury kids younger than you," he replied coldly.

G's eyes dropped to her drink, her expression chastened. "Sorry," she muttered.

Minho looked at her for a moment longer, then dropped his stony air. "Slim it Newbie, you've got enough to sort out without me making it worse. Why does Newt call you G?"

"Because she's too bloody stubborn to tell us her name, so for now it's G for girl," Newt said neutrally, still a little mad at her even with his logical side telling him to go easy on the Greenie.

Minho shot him an amused look at his tone and rolled his eyes. "Come on Newt, lay off it, like you were any better. If I remember correctly in your first week you called me… what was it? Ah yes, a 'useless sack of steamy shit' who had 'spent a year with my thumb up my ass'."

Newt laughed with his friend at the memory and conceded. "Yeah, alright, sorry G, but you really do need to slim it with that klunk, others might not be so forgiving," he warned.

G nodded, but was still looking sullenly into her drink as if she was still mulling over Minho's reprimand.

"Want some food guys?" Frypan said from before them, appearing with a selection of foods piled onto a tray in his hands. Minho and Newt hastily grabbed as much as they were permitted, but G didn't move. Fry gave her a concerned look and freed one of his hands from underneath the tray. "Here," he said, handing her a mug of soup and a lump of bread with minimal charring. She tentatively set her drink of the ground beside her and took the food, holding the mug between her knees and tearing off some bread. Dipping the piece into the soup and placing it slowly in her mouth, she appeared to have been expecting to drop dead instantly as she tended to do with food. However, once again she seemed pleasantly surprised.

"It's good," she said, taking a second bite. "Really good." Her small smile at Frypan was zealously returned and although he made no response, Newt knew that the cook had taken a liking to her. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Gally, who had finally decided to make his appearance.

"Chumming up then, shanks?" He called nastily as he stopped beside Fry in front of them. The cook moved away hastily, offering food to a group further around the fire.

"Come on Gally, shove off," Newt said tiredly, not in the mood for the most problematic Glader.

"You know something don't you?" Gally shot at G, ignoring Newt completely. "You know something and you're not telling us. Can't trust girls." He directed the last part of his comment to the few Gladers who had appeared at his side, all sneering in a very similar manner to their ringleader.

"Yes, bang on, I am in fact, a girl. Excellent observational skills," G said snidely.

Gally coloured. "I don't trust you, girl-"

"I'm heartbroken."

"-But I swear I'm gonna find out what you're up to, there's nothing good about a girl showing up here after all this time-"

"Well I'm not planning anything to my knowledge but I promise that if I suddenly recall anything of my feminine evilness, you'll be the first to know," G replied coolly, glaring at the boy.

"You act tough but we all heard you crying," Gally taunted. "Crying like a little girl-"

"Oh stop being so sexist, sort out your life somewhere away from me," the girl said, returning to her meal.

Expression ugly, Gally leaned down and smacked her mug of soup away, splattering the stuff all over the dirt. For the second time that evening the party grew quiet and once again was watching G. The girl was looking at the spilled soup, her face oddly neutral.

"Don't talk to me like that girl, learn your Greenie place," Gally spat down at her. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own the place? We all see through your klunk, don't think you're fooling anyone."

G ignored him, apparently captivated by the sight of her dinner sprawled across the ground. If this was an attempt to encourage Gally to give up and leave her alone, it was not very successful; in fact her lack of response seemed to make Gally even angrier.

"What's the matter, girl? Griever got your tongue? Hey!" He pulled her face to the front by her chin. Newt started forward.

"Woah Gally, chill out man, back off," he said quickly, trying to push the boy away.

"Shove off Newt, stop butting your nose into everyone's business."

"He's right Gally, you need to calm down," Minho said, glaring at him coldly.

"What's going on here?" Nick's voice cut through the tension easily and Gally let go of G's face, stepping away quickly.

His angry gaze remained on G as he answered. "Nothing, Nick, don't you worry," he bit out in a mocking tone as he backed away, leaving the gathering with his friends.

G let out a long breath of air Newt hadn't realised she had been holding, and noted the shakiness to her following inhalation.

"Ignore him, he's a complete slinthead."

Nick said nothing but shot him an amused look before returning to his group, satisfied that the danger had passed.

"He's scary," G admitted, taking a small bite of her bread which was all that remained of her meal.

"Nah, he just likes to pretend that he's scary," Newt grinned. "You want me to get you another thing of soup?"

She shook her head, eyes downcast, all her bravado and sharp sass completely gone. Newt had no doubt that at the slightest provocation it would return, as raw and biting as usual.

"It's getting late Newt, if you're Running with me tomorrow you better get to sleep," Minho reminded him.

Realising that by now it was probably past midnight, Newt nodded wearily, setting down the last of his drink and turning to G.

"Want to turn in now? It's been a big day, you should probably get a good night's sleep," he asked with a yawn.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," was the complacent reply. Newt gave her a concerned look.

"You okay?"

G nodded, stifling her own yawn. "Yeah. Tired."

"Come on then, get to bed yourself too, Minho," Newt said, standing. His friend nodded as they left, walking away from the noise and warmth of the party.

Making their quiet way across the field to the Homestead, Newt couldn't think of anything to say to the girl but she didn't seem to mind; apparently just realising the extent of her exhaustion, G couldn't stop yawning and was even stumbling a bit.

Arriving at their hammocks, G turned to Newt after pulling her shoes off.

"Good night," she declared curtly, promptly clambering into her hammock and falling asleep instantly without another word.

A little bemused, Newt stared for a moment at her motionless form before removing his own shoes and lying down. He could hear other Gladers packing in for the night around them, some whispers and jokes about G audible but thankfully not acted upon, and closed his eyes.

Gally might have been wrong that G was a bad sign, but Newt couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she really did know something. Shaking the paranoid thought from his head, Newt rolled over and consciously slowed his breathing to try to go to sleep.

He couldn't let Gally's prejudice mess things up any more than it already was.


	7. Chapter 7 - Strangers

A/N: "accidentally" took an opportunity to make a Doctor Who reference in this chapter, it's kinda obscure but if you spot it, do tell me :P

Strangers

At wake up Newt was surprised to find G already out of her hammock and missing from the Homestead. It seemed her and Nick had arranged the previous day to have a bath arranged for her before any of the other boys awoke, and she returned after breakfast with damp hair, wrinkled fingers, and an uncharacteristically bright smile.

"I didn't know your face could even do that," Newt said, only half joking as the girl sat down opposite him in the kitchen with a bowl of porridge drizzled with honey in front of her.

Her smile took on a slight sarcastic tone but lost none of its vigour. "That's the first time I remember brushing my teeth but I am positive it was better than any other time in my whole life," she said in reply.

"Yes we are ever so lucky that whoever put us here cares about our dental hygiene so much as to give us toothbrushes and such," Minho interjected from Newt's side. "Too bad they don't care about our actual lives with equal devotion."

G laughed; Minho and Newt stared. G _laughed. _Not just the small smiles and light chuckles of the past few days, the girl actually _laughed,_ loud enough to draw the attention of a few other boys around them as well. She noticed their looks and quietened, looking embarrassed. "What?"

Minho and Newt shook their heads simultaneously. "Nothing," Newt said hastily. "Just we didn't know you could do that either."

"Shut up," G shot back a little sharply.

"Ah, there she is," Minho grinned.

"I spoke too soon," Newt added with mock wistfulness.

"I will harm you both."

Nick, who had arrived just as G had pronounced her threat, took the seat next to the Greenie with a laugh. "I see you're settling into the Glade better than you were yesterday. Was the bath okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, thanks Nick," she said with honest gratitude.

"Thanks for that public service, Nick," Minho quipped. "I have to say though, it's a shame to say goodbye to the ecosystem of plant life in her hair that I was growing attached to."

"I agree, it really brought the Homestead together," Newt mused jokingly.

"Feng shui," Minho nodded, looking solemn.

"Greenie's going to the Slicers today, you two better hope she doesn't use her new skills on you later," Nick said, glancing at G's monumentally pissed off expression. At the boy's statement however, she was thankfully distracted from the two and looked quizzically at Nick.

"I'm going where?"

"Slicers, I told you about them yesterday. They take care of the animals until we need them for more gastronomical matters," Nick said with his usual good natured lilt.

"Then they cut the poor buggers open, pull their guts out, and donate them to the resident Glader pranksters for underhand slipping into the innocent looking meals of Greenies, such as breakfast porridge." Newt said seriously. G's former agitation returned and she rounded on him with a dangerous look to her eyes.

"I wonder, how much of this porridge do you think I could shove up your-"

"Well," Nick said hurriedly as he stood. "If you're nearly done G, I'll walk you over to the Bloodhouse and leave you with Winston. He'll take care of you until lunchtime."

G, who seemed to have a strange respect for Nick, shoveled porridge down her throat with a speed that impressed even Minho (who was renowned for both his appetite and the velocity that he could attempt to quench it), and stood as well, dashing off to give her bowl to Frypan before returning.

"See you later, G for Greenie," Newt grinned.

"Bye G for Geek," Minho waved.

G bid them farewell with a rude hand gesture as she followed Nick away in the direction of the Bloodhouse to begin her official Tour in search of her appropriate Glader job. It was not long afterwards that Minho and Nick finished their own breakfasts and took to the Maze; as usual, there was an awful lot of running to do.

* * *

><p>"You finished?" Minho called from a path to his left.<p>

"Yeah, nothing," Newt called back, turning the corner to find his friend with his water bottle out leaning against the wall.

"Let's head back then, maybe the others found something."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Today could be the day, Newt," Minho grinned with feigned optimism as he shoved the bottle back into his pack and fastened his harness.

The two boys took off running back towards the Glade, turning the corners with ease along that day's route back. They knew the Maze's pattern so mind-numbingly well that it was barely an hour before the green of the Glade appeared before them, along with the other Runners, already returned.

It was the usual report; nothing of consequence found, no exits magically appeared, no hints or clues discovered. The disappointment they all felt was the result of an inextinguishable hope that still foolishly appeared in every Runner as they entered the Maze every morning, despite the same report being given every day for the past two and a half years. Trudging back to the kitchen for lunch, Newt and Minho didn't even bother removing their Runner's gear, too tired and dispirited for anything other than a good meal from Frypan.

They sat down heavily with Alby, Nick, and surprisingly, Gally, who was apparently having one of his rare tolerable days.

There was little conversation, the faces of the Runners speaking volumes. Frypan took his break ten minutes later and sat with the group as well, bringing with him his unfailing determination to cheer up anyone and everyone he could. Newt had talked to Alby many a time about the older boy's early experiences, the ones where Alby had been alone in the Glade for an entire month. It was days like these that he really appreciated what Alby meant when he said that the most important thing was that they had each other. Once again, Alby's strength to spend so long in the Glade by himself amazed Newt, and he thought of how he himself would have fared in the same position.

Probably would have died the first day, was his conclusion.

"Hey Newt!"

He turned to see another Runner, Kyle, walking towards them escorting the Newbie back from her first day out working. As Kyle arrived he nodded at the other boys at the table with a grin on his face.

"Hey guys, Winston told me that you wanted the Newbie back for lunch Nick," Kyle said, looking over his shoulder to G, who was hanging back a few steps.

"Thanks Kyle, could you grab some food for that shuckface, the guy never eats anything other than raw offle," Nick said with a wry look.

Kyle nodded and left, leaving a shaken looking G standing before their table. Newt appraised her with the rest of his friends; she was completely covered in mud, had grass stains on her pants, and blood on her sleeves.

"So much for that bath," Minho laughed.

"My sides are splitting," she said with lethal sarcasm.

"Come on Greenie, have some lunch," Frypan said, leaning over and handing her a plate of the stir fry that had composed their meal. She took it gratefully and sat down, eyeing Gally with surprise as she began to eat.

"Don't get your hopes up, Greenie," Gally shot out sullenly. "I still don't trust you."

"However shall I manage."

"Do you ever say anything that isn't sarcastic, or are we to expect another shucking Minho around here?" Alby asked her.

G's gaze flicked over to him and she gave him a smile that Newt could not describe as anything other than smart-assed.

"Of course I say things that aren't sarcastic," she said sarcastically. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"God it's like I'm looking in the mirror," Minho stared at her.

"I note a few fundamental differences," said Newt, his hand on his chin as he looked between the two.

"Moving on," Nick rolled his eyes. "How was working as a Slicer, Greenie?"

G shuddered. "I couldn't do it," she admitted.

"Too much blood for a girl?" Gally jabbed rather weakly.

G snorted. "Did they wipe your memory of the female anatomy as well as your sense of humour or something?"

Looking flushed, Gally stood and left, though Newt wasn't sure whether or not this was due to the burn of G's retort, or some kind of odd founded embarrassment from her implication.

"So not a Slicer, then? No inner calling to raise animals for months, growing emotionally attached to them and forming irreplaceable relationships with them before brutally slaughtering them and consuming their flesh?"

"No Newt, I don't think I'll be a Slicer," she said with a roll of her eyes that rivaled Nick's.

"Where are you sending her tomorrow, Nick?" Alby asked.

"Track-hoes, see if she can give Zart a bit of help."

Alby thought for a second. "It would be good to get her there, Zart's been telling me they're shorthanded."

"I'll put an ad in the paper," Nick said, his expression not changing.

Newt, Minho, Frypan, and Alby descended into laughter, and G joined them, bringing her daily laugh count to a record breaking two.

"You're happier today," Fry said to her. "It's nice to see you smiling more. First week is always hard."

G nodded, looking a bit more serious. "It's still hard," she said honestly, "but I didn't expect you all to be sarcastic shits like me." She frowned. "Well really, I didn't expect myself to be a sarcastic shit either."

The table sobered. G didn't seem to notice, and continued talking to Fry. "It's so bizarre," she said, "learning about myself the same way I'm getting to know you guys, like I'm a stranger. I don't know what foods I like, or when I like to get up in the morning, or how I like to drink tea. But at the same time, I know that I'm supposed to have foods I like and don't like, and that different people get up at different times in the morning, and all the ways people drink tea. It's like-" She paused, searching for some way to explain the feeling. "It's kind of like someone's speaking to me in a language I can listen to and understand but can't write down or read. I can't remember anything, but all the information is there. I feel… hollowed out."

Her speech ended, and she noticed for the first time the rest of the table watching her, listening to her speak. Her face coloured, a reaction that was wholly unexpected by Newt, and he wondered how someone so confident dishing out such sarcastic klunk could find attention embarrassing.

"It doesn't go away," Alby said quietly, breaking the silence. "That feeling. Whoever put us here did just that, hollowed us all out." He looked up at her. "But you do have something," he said with a light smile. "You have these idiot shuckfaces to keep you company. You're only on day four, G, give it time and we'll help you figure out at least a few of those things again."

G wasn't looking at him, her gaze was set resolutely on the grain of the table and her lips her pressed together tightly like she was trying not to cry. Nick put his arm around her and she offered him a weak smile, but the watery look to her eyes didn't go away. Newt stared down at his own plate, now empty. The table's conversation picked up again and veered away from serious topics quickly, and soon they were laughing again, but Newt kept quiet; his budding good mood that had taken root during the meal had vanished and G's words weren't leaving him alone.

_Like I'm a stranger. _

How did he like his tea? Newt looked out over the Glade and saw Kyle heaving a barrel across the field. What was Kyle's favourite food? Did he like to watch T.V.? Was it dinosaurs, stars, or flowers that had decorated the boy's bedspread when he was a kid?

An overwhelming sadness flowed over Newt. What had been on his own bedspread? What had he and his family had stupid fights about? What stories had he been read at night? Which songs had he liked? Who had been his best friend?

It was all gone.

All the ridiculously inane little things that made up his personality were gone, leaving him with reactions to things he didn't understand and a life he missed without even remembering it. The laughs of his friends suddenly went from being distant and muffled to unbearably loud, and he stood quickly. Muttering a goodbye, Newt left the kitchen and walked towards the Homestead; all he wanted to do now was sleep. He wanted to sleep for years and years and wake up somewhere far away with a cup of tea made just the way he liked best, his favourite song playing on repeat, and a book he had read a thousand times in his lap.

A/N: Thank you again to my amazing reviewers, you guys are so kind and wonderful and I love you to bits. Seriously. On this chapter, there's a good deal more conversation between the characters which was both fun and constructive to write. Things got a little sad at the end, but hey, the realities of life in the Glade huh :/


	8. Chapter 8 - Observations

A/N: hey guys, sorry to be annoying but I just thought I'd ask super nicely, I literally don't mind if it's a smiley face or a sad face or a 'please shut up' or anything, please consider leaving a review. I've been getting a lot of hits so I know you're out there :P to those who have left me messages, they have all been amazingly nice and I love you guys heaps thank you so much :3

Observations

Shaking himself out of the low he had descended to was easier than Newt had expected. He simply threw himself into every task he was handed with such vigour that he completed all his work in half the time others did and with double the productivity. He had also taken it upon himself to closely monitor the comings and goings of G, who was passing through the week in a blur of failures. As it turned out, the everyday chores of the Glade were not well suited to the Newbie, in the sense that she was either too snarky to get along with people, or too bored to pay proper attention to her tasks.

Her second day of the Tour took her to the Track-hoes, where she worked at a pace approaching diligence for two hours and then decided point blank that she couldn't weed another inch, spending the remainder of the time looking blankly at Zart who was powerless against her apathy. Nick had told her sternly that it didn't matter what interested her as long as she could do it, but the girl had remained unmoving and they had eventually had to relent. Newt asked her about it that night when they went to bed, and she replied simply that she would never be properly helpful in something that she didn't enjoy. Despite her logic, G's bout of stubbornness earned her a good day of cool reserve from Nick, who had a low tolerance for pettiness.

The third day saw G taken to the Med-jacks, and Newt stopped by after he returned from the Maze to see how she was going. To his great amusement, Clint was barely speaking a word to the girl and Jeff was speaking too much, an endless stream of mostly useless information. This rendered their Greenie both confused and ill-informed, resulting in her doing more harm than good to the unfortunate Slicer whose broken finger she had been attempting to tend. She had been hastily shooed from the Med-jack's room by a strained looking Clint who had retreated back to care for the now howling Slicer. Newt accompanied her to lunch where he had retold her misfortunes with great gusto to Minho and Nick, after which the latter was a little warmer to G. Nick was never one who could hold any sort of grudge.

Day four unfortunately bestowed the girl to the Builders, paired also with the Brick-nicks due to the similarity of the jobs. Dinner that night was the perfect opportunity for Gally to loudly proclaim each and every one of G's failures and mishaps to the general amusement of the Glade, but unfortunately rendered the Newbie extremely flushed and very pissed off. G had stood mid-way through one of Gally's criticisms with a furious look on her face and her ears bright red, turned on her heel and stormed from the kitchen. Newt had found her later that night at bed time sulking silently in her hammock and hadn't managed to get another word out of her.

It wasn't until the end of the week G had any real success.

"New supplies today," Alby said with a grin as Newt sat down for breakfast, yawning.

"Food," he said wearily, reaching dramatically across the table towards Frypan. The cook gave him a look.

"Get your own, lazy shank."

"You're so cruel Fry." Newt heaved himself back up and over to the bench to fetch some bacon, eggs, and two pieces of bare toast. Sitting back down with a pointed sigh (to which Frypan rolled his eyes), Newt began to eat at a slow, listless pace. "What was that Alby?" He asked blearily.

"I said supplies today, slinthead. Hope we get more toothpaste, we're getting to the desperate folded-in-on-itself-every-possible-direction stage."

"I'm holding out for more sugar, I want to make those bread things Minho likes," Frypan mused.

"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, yes please," Minho said as he appeared, taking his place next to Newt with his breakfast. "Anyone seen G? I hear she's with you today, Fry," he said around his bacon.

Newt raised his eyebrows at the cook. "Good luck Fry, she can be a little… what's the word…"

"Horrendously cynical?" Minho sniggered.

"Taking that as a compliment," G said, sitting at the table next to them.

"Oh good morning G, didn't see you there. Did I say horrendously cynical? I meant… tremendously mystical."

G stared at Minho blandly. "Nice save."

As Minho grinned at her, Fry leaned forward to look at her. "You're with me today G," he said smiling.

Surprisingly, G returned his look and actually looked excited. Newt made a tired noise that in his head was an actual question but in reality came out a little more like, "Mmmnnnnegh?"

"Didn't catch that sorry Newt," G said, unfazed as she bit into her toast.

"I think he's attempting to express surprise at your lack of unenthusiasm," Minho translated, watching Newt drop egg down his shirt.

"Oh, well, I've actually been looking forward to cooking," G admitted. "I really like Siggy's food, I'm kind of excited to help him make it."

Fry looked pleased at her compliment but didn't say anymore as at that moment, Gally arrived with Nick.

"Morning," Nick said pleasantly, nicely juxtaposing Gally's grotesque look of censure shot in G's direction.

G offered Nick a tentative smile, obviously still climbing back up the ranks in his good books. To her obvious relief, he offered her a warm look and took the seat next to her with his meal.

"Ready for today? It's getting late guys, you better get going," Nick added to the boys at the adjacent table.

Minho glanced out at the sun and stood, clapping Newt on the back. "He's right shank, let's get out there. Great breakfast Fry, but I can't lie, I'm dreading lunch," the Keeper said with a sly grin at G.

She returned the look with one of equal amusement. "I will spit in your food, you ass."

"You wouldn't dare," Minho said with mock horror, dragging Newt to his feet as the younger boy rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Come on Newt, we have a Maze to traipse."

Luckily, Newt's morning haze had worn off by the time they were geared up and ready to leave, but an odd exhaustion hit him as the middle of the day neared, so much so that he took twice as many stops as usual and ended up arriving back with Minho a good half hour after the rest of the Runners.

"What's up with you? You're a shucking sack of wet sand," Minho said, steadying Newt when the boy stumbled over nothing.

"I dunno, I'm completely beat," Newt replied hazily.

"Let's get some food into you. Well, potentially food. No promises though."

At Newt's confused look, Minho rolled his eyes. "Do you not remember anything from this morning?"

"What are you talking about you jacked up shank?"

"G's with Fry today," Minho laughed, leading the way towards the kitchen. "We're so late I doubt there'll be any one else there, so don't be afraid to projectile vomit everywhere."

As it turned out despite being as late as they were, Minho would have to save projectile vomiting for another day; the kitchen was still mostly full when they arrived. Looking around in confusion, the two Runners' eyes fell upon the counter where G stood looking exhausted and completely disheveled, dishing out bowl after bowl of a thick, glistening stew with an oddly proud look on her face.

Spotting Nick sitting with Fry in the corner of the kitchen, Newt and Minho made their way over and sat down.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Newt asked, resting his head tiredly on his hands.

"It seems our Greenie has a talent with food," Nick said with a gleam in his eyes. "She's created something of a Glade favourite. Admittedly with a lot of help, but still, I think we can end her Tour here."

Fry leaned forward. "She just kept chucking stuff into the pot, I think she's as surprised as we are it turned out so well, she looked half jacked the whole time like it was all a joke," the boy laughed.

"Oh, Minho, I suppose I should get the special bowl I prepared just for you," G's voice said from beside them. They looked up to see the girl in a splattered apron with her hair sticking to her face which was flushed and sweaty, but pulled into an expression only describable as evil.

Minho suddenly looked very scared. "No, G, it's okay, I'll have what they're havi-"

"Oh no Minho, I made you something extra delicious," G grinned, placing a bowl of the stew in front of Newt and walking away with a terrifying spring to her step. Newt looked down at the food and picked up his fork. The stew was a warm brown with lumps of carrot, potato, onion, and chicken, shimmering steam smelling richly spiced and deliciously hot. Newt began to eat with fervor, ignoring Minho's longing look at his markedly un-toxic meal.

When G returned, he looked up at her grinning. "This is bloody amazing G."

She looked at him in surprise. "Thanks," she said plainly. Her bare response was a little disconcerting, and Newt's expression fell, feeling thrown off.

G looked away from him quickly and placed Minho's bowl down with another evil look appearing on her features. "There you go, Minho," she said cheerfully.

Newt gagged. The odour of what G had just put down hit him hard and strong, and the whole table leaned away as the smell surged over them. He looked down through watering eyes to see what was in the bowl, and saw a horrifying mockery of his own meal; the rich sauce was replaced with watered down animal dung, the carrot with what looked like raw kidneys, the potatoes were bits of cartilage, the onion was dead worms, and although the chicken remained itself, Minho's was rotten and raw.

The table erupted with laughter, drawing the attention of the rest of the room who upon investigating the cause of the mirth, and promptly joined in.

"Go on then Minho," G said, eyes gleaming. "Dig in."

"Have mercy," Minho pleaded, staring up at her wringing his hands comically.

She let him flounder for a few more moments, and then conceded, producing a bowl of the decidedly more palatable stew and replacing Minho's meal, holding the demonic broth at arm's length as she took it away through the crowd of still laughing Gladers.

She returned moments later still grinning to find Minho forking through his new lunch with a cautious look on his face.

"That one's good, I promise," she assured him as she sat down.

"Why should I believe you," Minho said, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

In response, G reached out her own fork, stabbed a piece of potato and popped it in her mouth, a gaudy smile on her face.

"Okay, okay, thanks," Minho muttered, looking extremely relieved as he tucked in.

"So what do you say to leaving your Tour here and joining Frypan then, G?" Nick asked, a laugh still in his voice.

G nodded enthusiastically. "I'm good with that if Siggy is."

Frypan had no complaints, and Nick declared her a Cook. "But do try to keep meals like that lovely one you just served Minho to a minimum," Nick reminded her solemnly.

G nodded, but the cheeky sparkle in her eyes made Newt wonder how sincere her agreement was. He decided that unless he wanted to encounter a dish like Minho's in the future, he would try to keep from royally pissing her off.

Cutting through the conversation with a deep, resonating drone, the Box alarm interrupted them with its anticipated call. Gladers all leapt to their feet and hurried off towards the Box, Alby making a detour past the Homestead to pick up his inventory clipboard; the task may seem simple but Newt knew he would be working for the rest of the day and most of tomorrow recording everything that arrived and making sure it went to the right places.

G looked like she was pretending to know what was happening as she followed Newt out of the dining room and towards the middle of Glade where she arrived with Newt to witness the metal doors of the Box whir open. Newt leapt up with Minho and a few others to pull open the grates and looked inside; scattered around the Box sat the customary muddle of metal barrels, crates, messes of ropes, and small packed boxes that he knew would contain clothes. Frankie jumped down right into the middle of the array and began pulling open things and assessing what was inside.

"Here's that sugar you wanted, Fry," the young boy called, waving to some others to come down and help him heave the container up and out of the Box for the cook.

"Excellent," said Minho quietly, earning a snort from G. Newt guessed Fry had acquainted her with Minho's obsession with his adored sugar breads during the morning, presumably along with many other oddities of the Glade.

"Toothpaste, and new brushes," Frankie called, he and his team hoisting the box up whilst Alby scribbled furiously.

"Oh sweet! New tools!" Frankie's excitement resounded throughout the rest of his fellow Track-hoes, who were passing out the smooth, shiny tools and examining them like they were sweets.

"Blankets."

"Rope."

"Backpacks."

"Shoes."

Frankie stopped at the crate he had just opened, staring at the contents silently.

"What is it Frankie?" Someone called.

"Um," the boy said uneasily. "I think it's for her."

Frankie didn't need to specify, there being only one person he could be referring to. G stepped forward and looked into the Box before bursting out laughing. Confused, Newt did the same; Frankie stood before an open box holding a range of clothing for G including several bras. Frankie was looking incredibly embarrassed, which G had apparently found extremely amusing.

"Yeah I think that's for me," G said once she had composed herself. "Thanks Frankie."

The boy, bright red, had closed the box and passed it up to her, where G had promptly began to carry it away towards the Homestead.

There was an awkward moment where no one moved.

"Okay Frankie," Alby called in an exasperated tone. "Let's keep going."

"Right," Frankie said, jumping back into action. He picked up a small box and worked open the lid, only to stop again.

"What is it now?" Alby said, annoyed.

"I have no idea what these are for," Frankie said bewildered, offering the little box up to the older boy.

Alby took the box and he and Newt examined the contents whilst Frankie and the others continued to open the new supplies. The box was filled with a series of spongy looking white strips of fabric, one side of which appeared to be slightly sticky. With a jolt, Newt realised what they were.

"I think these are also for G," he said hastily, closing the box.

Alby seemed to understand and looked remarkably unperturbed. "Go take them to her, will you?" He asked, making a note on his clipboard and turning back to the Box.

Newt hurried over to the Homestead to find G rummaging through her new selection of clothes. "Hey," he called as he approached.

She looked up with a distracted smile before returning her attention to the clothes. "I don't have to wear guy's underwear anymore, happy day," she said in response.

"Here, I don't think anyone else here has a use for these," Newt said as he handed her the small box and flung himself into his hammock next to her.

She opened the box and nodded, offering him a quick thanks. Pulling up a light grey t-shirt, G chucked a random jumper at his face. "Close your eyes," she said.

Newt left the jumper obstructing his vision without protest until she pulled it away moments later, now dressed in the grey shirt.

"Thanks for feeding me edible food," Newt said with a smirk.

"He was asking for it," G replied shrewdly.

"I hope the rest of those clothes aren't that ugly," a raspy voice called, announcing the arrival of Gally. "We're the ones who have to see it you know."

"Actually piss off Gally, I don't dress to make your day better," G said in a monotonous drawl.

Sneering, Gally kept walking, and G sighed heavily as she too lay down in her hammock.

"He's a right git you know," she said darkly.

Newt laughed. "He is, but you know he's a bloody good Builder, and he's got brains in between all the klunk in his head," he allowed generously.

G eyed him. "You're remarkably tolerable," she observed.

"You have to be in here," Newt said with a shrug. "All we have is each other."

Looking thoughtful, G nodded. "I guess I should try to be nicer to him then," she said dully, looking extremely unhappy with the prospect.

Smothering another laugh at her expression, Newt shook his head. "Nah, don't bother, he'll never stop with his jacked up klunk so just give it to him back, it's the only way he'll end up respecting you."

"Whatever you say, sage," G said, rolling her eyes at him.

Newt held up his hands. "Just trying to shucking help, Greenie."

"G!"

They both sat up at the call to see Frypan waving at her from over by the kitchen. "Get your shuck ass over here, we gotta make dinner!"

With a grin, G leapt up out of her hammock and nearly fell over. "See you later, Newt," she called as she jogged off.

"Bye O graceful one," he joked, ignoring the rude hand gesture she sent his way over her back.

Lying back, he closed his eyes and relaxed into his hammock. He was just pondering a nap when suddenly a thought flashed unprecedented across his mind; _Gally was wrong, she looked good._

Newt sat up. He stared hard at the end of his hammock, a hard frown creasing his face.

'Don't freak out,' he thought. 'It's not like she looked bad. There's nothing weird about thinking she didn't look bad.'

_But she didn't just not look bad_, a small voice said in the back of his head. _She didn't just look not bad, she looked-'_

Newt cut the thought off quickly and got out of his hammock, deciding that now was not the best time for a nap. Furiously convincing himself that his wayward observation was entirely neutral in nature, he hurried off back to the Box to continue unpacking supplies. He really did not need to go down that road.

A/N: please review! :3 (don't hate me I'm sorry :0)


	9. Chapter 9 - Hangover

A/N: okay first up there are some apologies in order... my computer and the internet have not been the best of friends of late and I myself haven't been in such a good place but that is no excuse for abandoning updating this story, which is in fact one of the only things that I'm actually achieving right now XD I'm very sorry everyone who reads this was affected by my ineptitude :(  
>Secondly, and <strong>this is actually important please read this, <strong>I'm not sure how some will react to this chapter, and I beg those who don't like it to remember this: (plus here's a tid bit about G so bonus treat to those who read author's notes) this is a girl of 17 surrounded by strangers in a deadly place with no memory, no comfort, and no escape. The emotional and psychological stress was literally designed by WCKD to overwhelm these 'test subjects' and I therefore claim the right to show how such stress might affect children of this age in as realistic a way as possible. G is not always making the best decisions, and sometimes, she goes as far as to make decisions that are quite the reverse. Please remember that these are characters in a dangerous and potentially lethal situation, not a romantic comedy.  
>That's all from me, author out :P<p>

Hangover

There was a strange smell in the Homestead and Newt wrinkled his nose as he entered to turn in for the night. The day had been particularly grueling, an odd but not unfamiliar gloom hanging over the Glade, turning any smiles flat, and laughs short and bitter. Meals weren't by any means not up to their normal standard, but it didn't seem like any of the Gladers could taste anything regardless. It was also on this day that Gally had loudly complained that someone had stolen into his private stores of brew and taken a decent share of it without asking him. He was mid death threat when Newt decided to go to bed, not really in the mood to listen to what Gally was going to do with the entrails of the thief in great and exquisite detail.

However, as impossible as it seemed, the day actually managed to get worse when Newt walked into the Homestead, smelled that strange smell, and saw what had caused it. Gagging, Newt crouched down to the floor and scanned his eyes around the hut, low enough to see under all the hammocks. In the far corner, leaning up against a wooden pole was a pair of muddy sneakers and scraped knees.

"Oi," he called, standing and dusting off his hands. "What the bloody hell happened in here?"

Newt made his way over to the corner and looked down at the slumped form. He stared in surprise.

"G?"

The girl didn't move, her neck slack and her head lolling forward onto her chest. Newt crouched in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. "G, what's wrong? What happened?"

He gave her shoulders a gentle shake but she didn't wake, she only gave a small groan and dropped something from her limp hand. The glass bottle hit the ground with a low thunk and a sheepish tinkle, and Newt stared down at the thing in horrified realization. The empty bottle glinted maliciously where it lay, it's sharp recognizable odor weaving into the sickly stench that hung over the Homestead. Newt had found Gally's thief.

Looking back at G, Newt stared down at the front of the G's shirt which had an odd stain down the front of it. Closing his eyes with a groan of his own, he realised he had also identified the source of the unpleasant smell; G was so drunk that she had thrown up and passed out.

"Shucking hell, G. You've not been here two weeks you stupid piece of klunk," Newt grumbled, letting his hands fall from her shoulders and resting them on his knees.

"What the shuck is that," Minho choked out loudly, entering the room with his arm strewn across his face.

"It's vomit, Minho," Newt said with false cheer, standing and looking around. "Our slinthead newbie has taken it upon herself to sample Gally's brew with great gusto," Newt grinned tightly, a wild look to his eyes. He was suddenly reviewing Gally's threats from dinner with vastly increased enthusiasm.

Minho came over and gaped at the scene before him as Newt spun on his heel and stalked from the hut, a sharp line between his brows and an expression like thunder. Without a second thought Newt made his way to Nick, still in the dining room with a few other Gladers, laughing together over the last crusts of the meal. The boys looked up in alarm as Newt stormed up to them, his expression by no means curbed.

"Newt, what's wrong?" Nick said, half standing from his seat.

Newt took a deep breath. "Greenie's the brew thief and shucking puked in the Homestead."

There was a moment of still shock and then the whole table erupted into action; Nick and two others were off towards the Homestead and the rest of them presumably gone to find Gally, all talking at the same time in a garbled babble.

Newt followed Nick, catching up to the boy with a few long strides. "When did she have the time to do this? Wasn't she helping Fry with dinner?" He asked Nick, his stormy look persevering.

"Fry gave her the evening off, told her to take a proper look around the Glade," Nick replied, his tone uncharacteristically clipped.

Newt dipped his head, realizing that this was the second time the Greenie had done something stupid enough to end up in Nick's bad books since she had arrived. He didn't think he'd seen anyone manage to piss off Nick so much in his whole life; the boy was notoriously difficult to upset, one of the qualities that made him such a good leader.

They entered the Homestead to find a gaggle of Gladers, including Alby and Minho, surrounding the still passed out girl, all murmuring amongst themselves and casting looks of half interest, half amusement at the new arrivals.

"Alright all of you, I know you want to go to bed but make it a late night, give us half an hour," Nick called out, his gaze fixed on G. The group slowly dispersed, leaving only Alby, Minho, Newt, and Nick behind. Surprisingly, Nick cast his eyes over his friends quickly and his face grew tight. "You three as well, I'll take her to the Med-jack's room and clean her up for tonight, someone tell Fry that she'll be back to work tomorrow, no excuses."

Alby and Minho quietly followed the rest of the Gladers, Minho denying all that Newt thought possible and leaving without even one sarcastic comment; the Runner astoundingly managed to restrain himself to a single fervent look over his shoulder. Newt lingered, despite Nick's sharp glance.

"Let me help you take her there," he explained. "After all, I found her, and-"

"Get going, Newt," Nick said, as he returned his gaze to G.

Newt was so surprised that he took a step back; Nick sounded angrier than he had ever seen him.

"But-"

"I won't ask again," Nick bit out through clenched teeth. The boy had crouched down before G and was pushing the girl's hair back from her face.

Sensing imminent danger, Nick hastily retreated to find the Gladers grouped outside with curious expressions, lead of course, by Minho.

"What's got him so riled up?" Minho asked as soon as Newt approached.

Dumbfounded, Newt shook his head. "I don't know man. Has anyone found Gally?"

"Yeah, Kyle told him. He's ready to skin that dumb shuck Greenie alive. Hey, Alby!" Minho waved the boy over. "Do you know why Nick's so exceptionally pissed? People have gotten drunk before."

Alby nodded slowly. "Yeah, but they haven't gotten drunk on brew they shucking _stole_. Especially not after already having a rocky First Week. How's she going to do her part with a hangover like that's gonna give her?"

"_Where is she!?"_ A voice screamed from the distance.

Newt rolled his eyes. "This is so exactly what we need right now," he muttered darkly.

"Where is that treacherous piece of klunk!?" Gally bellowed, flanked by his usual gang as he marched up to the Homestead.

"Gally, although we're all flabbergasted you can use such long words, cut Nick a break and let it wait 'til morning," Minho said, holding his hand against Gally's chest.

"Yeah come on Gally, like no one's broken into your stores before. Slim the personal vendetta," Newt added tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

Breathing heavily, Gally seemed to see the logic in their comments and stood before them angrily for a moment more before retreating off into the dark. Newt sighed and flopped down onto the grass.

"This day is utter klunk," he said plainly.

Minho collapsed down beside him. "You said it man."

* * *

><p>After the shocking quality of the previous day, morning broke calm and cool over the Glade, an overcast sky casting smooth seamless grey light over the quiet sanctuary. As promised, the Gladers had been able to return to their hammocks half an hour after Nick sent them away, but Newt hadn't slept much at all. His mind had been keeping him awake for most of the night, and it was only when exhaustion sent him into a dreamless and unsatisfying sleep for a handful of small hours.<p>

His grainy eyes scraped open at wake up and he forced himself upright. His head was pounding and he felt like his brief sleep had done more harm than good, but somehow he already felt better than the previous day. The phantom gloom that had plagued them was a phenomenon that appeared every few weeks, an accumulation of suppressed feelings that somehow every Glader simultaneously succumbed to together, a collective understanding and overwhelming apathy.

Newt grabbed a mug of hot mint tea from the kitchen, a simple drink made from the wild mint leaves that grew in the woods, and head out by himself. He didn't want to go find Minho yet, glad that it was his free day and he wasn't destined for the Maze on such little sleep. He didn't want to find Nick, either, his lingering exhaustion cutting away his tolerance for coping with Nick and G, and the tension the two now promised. Instead, Newt took his fresh, sweet smelling drink and walked out through the fields, making his way through grass and fog without really seeing them. He sat down on a small hill, clutching the cup between his hands despite the heat being slightly uncomfortable, and looked out blankly across the Glade. He could see his friends starting their days, Runners entering the Maze, Track-Hoes wandering the crops, and Sloppers pushing barrels around with low heads and hunched backs. It was a long time before he could shake himself of the strange desire to be alone and return to the rest of the Gladers, so long that the day was nearing its midpoint when Newt finally approached Nick sitting by himself near the edge of the woods.

"Hey," he said simply as he sat down.

Nick gave him a nod of acknowledge but his eyes were tired and his weak smile sagged on his face.

"You get any sleep last night Nick?"

"Yeah," Nick sighed, stretching his arms with a grunt. "But not enough."

They sat in a heavy silence for a moment.

"How's G?" Newt asked, failing to sound casual.

Nick's expression darkened. "She's at work, but she might as well not be. Pretty shucking poor effort."

Newt gave him a munificent look. "That's kind of understandable, though."

It was clearly the wrong thing to say; Nick's eyes flashed with anger as he rounded on Newt. "But it shouldn't have to be, Newt. Or do I have to remind you of our extremely short list of simple, yet _tremendously _important rules?" He shot, his sarcastic rhetoric a little threatening.

Newt didn't answer, he just returned Nick's glare with a cool, surveying look that he hoped convey his surprise and disapproval at their Leader's out of character and unwelcome harsh response to the events. Nick seemed to understand and sighed, lifting his hands to his face and rubbing his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered.

Newt waved his hand dismissively, but he was glad that Nick had realised he was being a slinthead, even with such turmoil with the Newbie.

"I'm pissed at G, too you know," Newt said, looking up at the Walls. "She's being a right klunkbrain and she knows it. But if we strung up every Glader, especially Greenies, who took to the brew like moths to a flame and ended up with the contents of their stomach accessorizing their shirts, half the Glade would be hanging around like idiots, and you know it."

Although looking sullen, Nick nodded, and Newt was once again supremely grateful that his friend was capable of taking criticism so graciously, despite his position of power.

"Cut her a break this time, she made enough of a fool of herself last night for her own punishment, but you won't hear me complaining if you chuck her in the Slammer if she does it again," Newt finished, leaning back on the grass propped up on his elbows.

Although completely serious in his declaration, Newt had no idea that this statement would in fact be presented with an opportunity to prove itself the very next day, somewhat sooner than he had been meaning.

Newt arrived at breakfast the following morning to find the kitchen in mild uproar; he quickly surmised that G had not been seen at all and no one could remember even seeing her go to bed the previous night.

"Are you shucking kidding me," Newt growled as Minho approached him.

Minho placed his hand on Newt's shoulder with a grim look. "This girl is really riling up Nick, it's actually impressive," his friend quipped half-heartedly.

"Where is he?" Newt asked, looking around the crowd but not seeing the older boy.

"Nick? He's off trying to find G. And honestly for her sake I hope it's him who finds her and not Gally, that shank's out to kill."

Newt nodded and jogged away, scanning his eyes around the Glade and trying to ignore the dank sinking feeling that was growing in his chest. He saw Nick and Alby as he searched, and in the distance he heard Gally blundering around, but no one had any luck and the Greenie remained unseen until well into the afternoon.

It was, in the end, Gally who found her after all. He had seen a bottle fall from the landing of the watchtower and had ascended it quickly and with large quantities of shouting, and had returned with G's arm clutched in his hand as she stumbled and nearly fell down the tower with a clouded, bleary look to her eyes.

Newt approached the small group that had gathered at the base of the tower with Minho, Alby, Nick, and Kyle, immediately noticing that Gally was no longer shouting and was actually looking rather reasonable. His mind reeling at the unlikeliness of this reaction in the notoriously inflammable boy, Newt's gaze fell upon G and the awkward silence suddenly made sense.

The girl was leaning heavily against Gally's grip on her arm, and Newt thought that it was probably the only reason she hadn't fallen over yet. She looked disheveled, her clothes dirty and in some places even torn, her hair was tangled and stringy, and there were scratches all over her arms and legs, but it was her face that explained the quiet lack of censure; the girl's face was streaming with tears. They were falling from her eyes and pouring down her cheeks, dripping into her hair and onto the grass. She was breathing in little gasps, the rims of her eyes red and puffy like she had been crying like that for hours.

Suddenly, G clumsily pulled her arm from Gally's hand and began to walk away, hugging her arms around herself as if cold. She stumbled a little, but none of the other Gladers moved as the girl disappeared away into the distance, and Newt wondered if even after being pissed off at her for so long if Nick could bring himself to punish her after such a display.

* * *

><p>Newt didn't see G sober for a week. She almost never attended meals, and she definitely never came to work. Newt could see the compassionate empathy she had inspired in Nick beginning to wear thin, but their Leader kept an impressively calm face when she was around, and he had yet to lash out at her.<p>

Despite this understanding, Newt was genuinely surprised Nick hadn't put her in the Slammer yet; he supposed it had something to do with Nick feeling guilty he had let G get to him so much and his behaviour with her at the beginning of the week, but if anything Newt thought that Nick was completely entitled to act like that now.

To make matters worse, Frypan's usual helpers had taken ill a few days ago and he only had half the people he needed working in the kitchens with him; meals were growing later and colder, and clean ups often dragged on so long that at nights Fry didn't get to bed until a good two hours after everyone else. Although he didn't say anything, the cook was obviously desperate for G to return and was rather shucked off at her for completely ditching her job.

Newt eventually got fed up; after witnessing Fry attempt to serve lunch to the whole Glade almost entirely by himself for the third day in a row, he stood up from his table with resolve and went to look for G. He found her in her usual spot, surrounded by empty bottles and slumped weakly with her head bowed, at the top of the watchtower.

She looked up with heavily lidded eyes as he hauled himself up onto the landing. "Hey," she said in a slow tone.

Newt raised an eyebrow. "Hey Greenie," he huffed, sitting down next to her heavily. "You ever gonna come down from here?"

G looked away and didn't reply. Newt stared at her. "You gotta stop this G," he said seriously. "You gotta get back to work and get on with-"

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that," she whispered. "How the fuck do you all just pretend like nothing's-"

"We're not pretending klunk you jacked up shank," Newt cut in harshly. "We're just not letting our own stupid feelings mess up helping each other and not being lethargic slintheads for shuck's sake."

G gave a croaky laugh. Seeing the look Newt shot her, she gave a half smile. "You use that stupid slang so much I can barely understand what you're saying."

Newt gave her arm a light shove. "We'll convert you one day, Greenie," he said with a grin.

"Never," she replied, the half-smile spreading a little, but it lingered on her face a little too long. She looked at him with a scared look in her eyes. "I don't know if I can do this," she said quietly.

Newt held her eye contact a little sadly. "Yeah, you can," he said evenly. "But you can't if you stay like this. Come on G, stop doing this. You have to get back to helping Fry, he's dying without helpers, seriously."

She looked a little guilty at the mention of Frypan and focused her eyes on her entwined hands solidly. Newt gave a frustrated sigh. "Nick is going to throw you in the Slammer if you don't start getting back to reality soon, and you really don't want to get on Nick's bad side."

She gave a wry grin. "Why now?" She asked, obviously hinting at their Leader's blatant lack of any malicious dispositions.

"Because it would be a very lonely place to be, now come on," Newt grinned back, standing and holding out his hand. "Let's get you cleaned up, you look disgusting."

"Ever the charmer," G rolled her eyes, but to Newt's immense relief, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. At the sudden movement and change of posture the girl's lingering intoxication took out her balance and she instantly keeled sideways. Newt went to steady her but she had already fallen, landing hard on her side and her hands.

"I don't want to stand up right now," she groaned, lowering herself down and closing her eyes with a pained look on her face.

It was Newt's turn to roll his eyes, and he comically put his hands on his hips. "You're a right piece of work, you know that Greenie?"

There was no snarky reply and he shot her an incredulous look. "No sarcastic assault? No biting comeback? I'm floored, G, truly amazed."

After a second bout of silence, Newt crouched and pushed G's hair back out of her eyes. He stared. She was asleep. He gave a huff.

"Stupid drunk ass Greenie."

A/N: I have no right to ask for reviews after my terrible neglect so instead I shall request as many angry complaints as possible reprimanding me on my horrid failures at my author's duties. You'll have chapter 10 by tomorrow, that's a promise :)  
>P.S. please no one come after me if that's not your tomorrow, I'm most definitely in a different country to you (probably about 7 people populate my country total) :0<p> 


	10. Chapter 10 - Mint Tea

A/N: I have a special treat for you today readers, my boyfriend saw me writing the title of this chapter and asked if he could do the first sentence, so with great pride and everlasting love, I present his debut into authorhood:

"'Fuck yeah' she explained as downed her pint full of the dank liquid that was her mint skuxfucking tea"

My boyfriend was rather preoccupied with the word 'dank' when he wrote this, hence its somewhat confusing presence. Please be supportive of him, he is most anxious to hear how his masterpiece is received. Now, onto my own inferior endeavours :P

Mint Tea

Newt had first thought that it would take G at least a week to get back onto civil speaking terms with Nick and the others after her long spiel at the bottom of a bottle, but he was rather unpleasantly surprised. What occurred was in some ways, even worse; passive aggressive Nick. On her very first day back at work after Newt had spoken to her at the top of the tower, Nick was most definitely on speaking terms with the girl, and technically they were civil, but anyone with a brain and the ability to read body language could see past that.

"Did you have a good night's sleep, G?" Nick asked briskly as he pulled his toast apart.

G placed a tray with mugs of hot tea on the table slowly, looking warily at the boy. Newt, Alby, Minho, and Kyle watched the scene play out silently, and with the obvious feeling of great discomfort.

"I suppose," G said, face clearly saying that she didn't know where Nick was going with his comment.

"Excellent," Nick said, horribly toneless. "I'm pleased."

G backed away from the table. "Right," she said with narrowed eyes. "Well, I'll just go-"

"No no," Nick said with a frosty laugh. "Sit down, please. I'd love to have a chat with you."

G looked past terrified. "I would Nick, but Siggy-"

"Fry has done without you for a week and a half I'm sure ten minutes won't make such a tremendous difference."

"Speak for yourself, Nick," Frypan called from the kitchen.

Nick did nothing but smile dangerously. G seemed extremely intimidated and slowly made her way back to the table, sitting down with a look on her face like she would rather have her breakfast with a Griever.

"So, how have you been?" Nick asked conversationally, taking a bite of toast.

Now obviously confused as well as on red alert, G squinted at the boy in front of her, trying to make out his intentions. "Um, alright I guess," she replied expectantly.

"Excellent," Nick said again, still grinning his terrifying smile. Newt hastily filled his mouth with as much bread as he could manage, in case Nick called on him to say something. Minho saw him do so and promptly shoved a whole piece of toast into his mouth, jaw working furiously. G shot them a disparaging look.

"I haven't seen you in a while G," Nick commented absently, sipping his tea. "Why is that?"

G's face hardened; she had obviously grown tired of Nick's antics and Newt braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of her monstrously sharp tongue. "I was up the watch tower, Nick," she said coolly, "drunk out of my mind and abandoning as much of reality as I could manage."

"I see," Nick said with a professional looking frown, his fingers clasped together in front of his chin. Despite the composure of his face, his eyes had also taken on an aggressive tinge. "I don't suppose you realised, through this lapse in judgement, that you were also abandoning every single one of the people who could and will now have to help you?" He continued with that terrible smile.

G's head snapped up and her eyes locked onto him with her cold aggression. "Why yes, Nick, I thought about them every day," she shot out. "Now if you will excuse me-" she stood to leave, but Nick stood too.

"In my time here," he said, quietly but by no means calmly, "I have seen many Newbies behave as you have in their first weeks." G had frozen, looking back at him in surprise and anticipation. "And every time they come back, if they come back at all, they all expect me to chuck them in the Slammer for a few days and that'll be the end of it."

Nick walked around the table and up to G, his arms crossed and looking sterner than Newt had seen in a very long time.

"But that never happens Greenie," Nick said in near whispered. "Two out of the three rules… despite not being overly familiar with them, I did tell you what they are, and they aren't exactly excessive. You managed to avoid the Maze though, what a shucking blessing."

G flinched a little at his open sarcasm; even after knowing him for such a short time it was clear that she understood how rare it was for Nick to use something so harsh.

"I swear G, you better be pulling your weight from now on. Did you think that just removing yourself from everyone to wallow in your misery stopped everyone else from being affected? Fry's been working his shucking ass off trying to cover for you, Gladers have been missing whole days of work trying to find you and make sure you haven't shucking died, and the whole Glade's been in a great shucking gloom because you couldn't do what every single one of us has to do every day and just get up and help each other!" Nick's voice had gone from whisper to shout somewhere in his speech but it had felt like he had been yelling the whole time.

G's head was bowed and she was staring resolutely at the ground. Newt noticed her shoulders were trembling and Nick must have as well because his voice softened considerably as he continued. "We all need each other G, _all _of us. If we're going to survive this we can't hide away and pretend nothing's wrong."

At his words, G managed to meet his gaze. Aside from the obvious embarrassment from being shouted at in front of the whole Glade she looked much more apologetic than she had before, and with considerably less hostility.

Nick, whose character won out over his scolding, put a hand on her shoulder and offered her a small slightly wily smile. "You're the one who klunked up G, I'll be having no sarcasm from you please."

She managed a smile back but it looked a little empty behind the relief.

Nick turned to the onlooking Gladers. "Our Greenie will be back at work from now on, and she'll be doubling with Slopper duties for a month. I expect nothing more will be said to her about this," he said with a pointed look. Returning to their table, Nick sat down and continued to eat his breakfast with a clear intention for things to return to normal. G remained frozen on the spot for a moment and then returned to the kitchen looking a little shell shocked but without protest at her punishment.

"Shucking hell Nick," Minho whistled, "I've never seen you go off at someone like that before."

"Yes you have slinthead," Newt rolled his eyes. "He went off at _you_ worse than that after you put cow klunk in his shoes and drew vulgar images on his face while he slept."

"Oh yeah," Minho said with a nostalgic smile.

"I'm amazed you've survived unbanished," Newt shook his head.

"Think it'll work? Think people will leave her alone?" Alby asked.

"No," Nick admitted, "but hopefully nothing will be as bad as that."

"Yes Nick, set the bar high," Minho said sagely. "That way, all others will merely be disappointments."

Newt snorted. "Yeah I'm sure she'll be very disappointed with Gally after he's finished screaming."

"All thanks to Nick. Thanks Nick," Minho clapped him on the back cheerfully.

"I think it's high time you got started running the Maze," Nick said emphatically with a diplomatic smile.

"He's good, this one," Newt laughed, downing the rest of his tea and grabbing Minho and Kyle by their arms. "Come on you lot, let's get this over with. See you later Alby."

As they left, Minho turned to Kyle. "You've been awfully quiet," he said.

"To be honest I was too scared to say anything, it was like watching them have a shoot off, I didn't want to be collateral damage," Kyle said with a laugh.

"Wise shank you are," Newt grinned. "You should have a chat with G, see if she can pick up your talent of knowing when to not say anything inflammatory."

"I wonder how she'll react to you telling her that if she can't say something nice she shouldn't say anything," Minho sniggered.

"Well I can tell you she'd definitely say something, and it wouldn't be nice, now come on I'm already hungry and lunch is at the other end of our run," Newt said, fastening his harness and jogging to join the other Runners who were pooling at the entrance to the Maze. As he nodded at their fellow Runners, passed the colossal stone doors, and began to split up, Newt took a deep breath and felt the familiar, unwelcome weight of futility press in his chest; after years of running so much his body was definitely used to it, but Newt didn't expect his mind would ever be as prepared.

* * *

><p>G was visibly sweating when they returned, potentially more than they were, but Newt didn't think it had anything to do with a strenuous task. Considering all she was doing was handing out scoops of rice and stir fry, it seemed to Newt that her discomfort was explained more accurately by the lack of alcohol in her system after a week and a half of its perpetual presence. Though he expected the curt comments and stony faces of some of the passing Gladers were not helping.<p>

"Back behind the wheel then, Greenie?" He grinned, holding his plate out to her.

She served his lunch with a level of scorn he had never thought possible for food distribution.

"Don't look at me like that, you'll spoil my lunch," Newt said in a tone that was the audible version of sticking out his tongue.

"Leave her alone Newt, she's been working really hard," Frypan said as he came over carrying rice replenishments.

"You've changed your tune," Minho said, his usual trouble making expression firmly in place.

G looked at Fry with hurt on her face, so much so that Newt was surprised; he hadn't realised that her and Siggy were close enough for her to care about his opinion of her that much.

Fry shot Minho a glare and quickly turned to G. "Don't listen to him G, I was pissed at you but we're good now, I promise." He offered her a kind smile but the hurt on G's face just turned to a closed off sort of sadness.

"Is that because you've forgiven me or because Nick told everyone to drop it?" She asked dully.

"Because I've forgiven you, stupid shank," Fry said, pushing her shoulder lightly. "Don't be so self-piteous, we've all shucked up at some point once or twice. In Minho's case a fair bit more than that."

"I resent that!" Minho said with his hand on his chest, looking scandalized.

"No you don't," Newt sniggered, taking his plate away to sit down. He sent Fry a parting nod and G a cheesy wink, Minho following close behind.

They took their seats at an empty table and watched as Gladers continued to file past the bench getting their lunches from G. As they were watching, one boy said something to her that made her freeze, making Frypan reel around, angrily shove a full plate into the boy's hands and staring menacingly at him until he left with his friends.

"Her and Fry are buddies," Minho observed through a mouthful of rice.

"Yeah, how did that happen?" Newt asked.

"Dunno, guess working together," his friend replied, barely managing to make coherent sentences through the onslaught of food entering his mouth.

Casting Minho a look of half amusement, half unimpressed apathy, Newt turned his attention back to the line of Gladers getting lunch. Surprisingly, many seemed to barely pay G any attention, not seeming to care or even really know about her notoriety or what caused it. It was perhaps only one in every few who caused trouble, though these were quickly silenced by Fry. Although he was glad someone was sticking up for her, Newt was a little confused as to why she wasn't taking care of herself; it wasn't as if she wasn't capable of countering verbal attacks.

"Why don't you think she's ripping into those slintheads?"

"Seriously Newt?" A voice said from behind them. They turned to see Nick approaching from another table with a half-eaten meal in his hands. "You can't figure it out?" Nick sat down and continued to eat his lunch. "Mind if I join you shanks?"

"What do you mean, Nick? About G?" Newt asked, ignoring the boy's last question.

Nick raised one of his eyebrows and cocked his head. "You're kidding me. You don't know?"

At Newt's responding glower, Nick explained. "She feels guilty you stupid shank, is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," Minho replied simply, looking a little gob smacked.

As Nick rolled his eyes, Newt noticed a newcomer join the lunch line. "Oh no," he said hollowly.

The two other boys turned. "Oh no," Minho echoed. Gally stood with an empty plate clutched in his hands, staring at G as the line moved closer and closer to her.

"Which one will survive?" Newt whispered.

"I'm betting on Gally, he's more enraged," Minho whispered back. Nick shot them wearily critical looks but said nothing.

A few metres away from them, Gally reached the front of the line. A lot of other Gladers had noticed the two meet and had also fallen quiet to observe, causing a sudden near silence wash over the kitchen. G and Gally stood without moving, staring at each other impassively, though there was the smallest hint of a challenge in G's eyes. Suddenly, Gally flatly held out his plate without a word. Slowly, G took it and broke the stare to fill it up. She handed it back warily, and Newt thought that like him she was expecting Gally to snap and do something provocative. Surprising both of them along with the rest of the Glade, Gally silently accepted the plate and after a parting glare that he couldn't seem to hold back, took his seat with the rest of the Builders. As the onlookers quickly lost interest and conversation returned to the Glade, Newt watched as Fry approached G and started speaking to her; they were too far away and the boys enjoying lunch were too loud for the conversation to be heard, but Fry had apparently given her a break because he handed her a plate of her own and hurried her away with fluttering hands.

G saw them and approached hesitantly, obviously unsure once again to what Nick's reaction to her would be. "Is it alright if I sit here?" The girl asked quietly.

"Only if you tell us how you managed to placate Gally after stealing from him for a week," said Zart as he bypassed her and sat down with Winston. "What power do you possess?"

As the group laughed, a tentative smile found its way onto G's face and she sat down.

"I don't know about you G, one minute you're gun ho and the next you're worried for stepping on our toes," Newt teased.

"Don't try me Newt, I'm back to gun ho," G said in mock warning.

Nick sat up suddenly, a frown on his face. "Do you hear that?" He asked sharply.

The table fell quiet and listened; over the chatter of the boys at lunch, there was the faintest sound of shouting in the distance. Nick stood and walked away to investigate, leaving the rest of them staring after him bemused.

"What do you think that's about?" Winston murmured looking worried.

"No idea, did anything happen in the Maze?" Zart said, leaning forward on his elbows.

Minho shook his head. "Nothing out of ordinary."

The yelling grew closer and louder, and Nick reappeared at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the wall panting.

"Newt," he gasped. "Minho, come quick, it's Kyle."

"What's happened? What is it?" Newt asked quickly, jumping to his feet with Minho.

Nick's expression looked pained, and he seemed to struggle with his words. "Look I know Kyle's a friend of yours Newt but just-"

"What happened Nick?" Minho interrupted sharply. Nick looked at him sadly.

"Kyle's been stung."

A/N: just letting you know guys, shit's about to get serious. Introduction period over, let's get into this :P

This chapter was brought to you from the wifi-less house of my grandparents, I had to wrestle with the hot spot function on my phone which decided to take several years to load anything, let's just say I'm happy to see this one go XD


	11. Chapter 11 - Stroke Of Luck

A/N Guess who the frick frack is uploading again

Stroke of Luck

Newt had known Kyle for two years and had never, not once, seen him without a smile on his face. Whether that smile had been forced, sarcastic, sad, or amused, it had been perpetually present and annoyingly infectious. He looked at the boy on the bed in front of him, how he was screaming, twitching, and howling in some garbled speech that Clint and Jeff were trying to ignore as they tied him down; this boy was not smiling. '_This boy is not Kyle',_ he thought with cold determination. Not believing it but pretending he did, Newt stepped forward out of his daze to help the Med-jacks.

It took a good deal of effort but they finally managed to fasten Kyle's hands and feet to the bed so that his mad flailing was somewhat restricted, and the three of them sat down breathing heavily. Nick and Alby looked on solemnly, and Newt could hear more Gladers gathering outside the shack trying to get a look at what was going on.

"I've never seen a sting take hold so quickly," Clint muttered, "He was fine an hour ago, and now…" He waved his hand at the manic spasming body in front of them.

"We'll keep a close eye on him," Nick said in his best comforting voice. "Do we have any Serum?"

Alby shook his head. "None in the last supplies, unless there's some hidden away somewhere he'll have to wait until this week's delivery."

"That's five days away," Newt said hollowly. He stood and rounded on Nick and Alby. "Look at him. Do you really think he'll last five days?"

"We don't have a choice Newt, there's no other option-"

Newt stormed from the room and shoved his way through the throng outside blindly, ignoring the indignant cries of "Hey!" and "What's his problem?"

He barely noticed where he was going, a few minutes later realizing that he was stock still in the middle of the woods. Sitting down against a tree, Newt looked at his trembling hands and clasped them together tightly to try and stop the movement.

"Get a hold of yourself," he said forcefully. "It's not like you haven't seen this before."

_Not Kyle,_ said a nasty voice in his head. _Not a friend who's been here nearly as long as you._

Newt sat against the tree, a gaping darkness gnawing a hole in his chest. He had never felt so helpless. His friends were disappearing one by one, vanishing into the Maze, or surviving it only to waste away in the aftereffects of being stung. He and the other Runners spent every day looking for a way out like it was just going to appear one day on one of the paths they had scoured time and time again. That was what kept everyone going, that mad hope that they'll find something. That was enough to give them all a reason to keep going, to keep trying, why wasn't it enough for him?

_Because it doesn't help, because you don't help, because you can't actually do anything that makes a real shucking difference, because Kyle is lying there right now and for every day you spend running that piece of klunk Maze, he is right in front of you and you can't do a shucking thing. _

The trembling had spread to his whole body now. It had begun to rain.

* * *

><p>Three days later, Newt woke to an unfamiliar brightness. Groaning, he sat up and looked around; Gladers were up and about in the distance, the other hammocks were empty, and it was both too hot and too sunny for it to be morning. Realizing the others had let him sleep through wake up, Newt pulled clothes on and set out to find Nick. He walked past the kitchen without a second glance, not feeling hungry in the slightest despite having missed the past three meals.<p>

As it turned out, Nick found him first. "There you are," the older boy breathed heavily he jogged up to Newt. "I've been looking for you, where have you been?"

"Alby didn't wake me up," Newt said simply.

Looking a bit affronted, Nick surveyed him with a calculating expression before speaking again. "I thought you'd like to know that we found some Serum, Adam found some in the Mapper's hut, shuck knows why it was there though-"

"Have you given it to him yet?" Newt interrupted.

"I think they're doing it now-"

"Well let's go then," Newt said abruptly, walking off in the direction of the Med-jack's shack. He knew he was being rude and that Nick was the last person who deserved it but he didn't have the mind to care; it was the first time since Kyle had been stung that he had felt any sort of faith that his fellow Runner might make it through.

They entered the shack to find Minho, Alby, Jeff, Gally, and a few other spectators watching Clint pull the needle from Kyle's arm.

"Tim, would you go ask G to bring some food over, he'll be starving when he wakes up," Clint said as he put the empty Serum syringe away.

As Tim left, Newt approached the bed and looked down at his friend; he was no longer spasming, his body now relaxed and limp, but he by no means looked healthy. Dark vein-like webs crisscrossed his skin, and his pallid pale face was covered in sweat despite his lips being so dry that they were cracked and bleeding. His rasping labored breath wheezed in and out of his mouth, shallow and rapid.

"It doesn't look it but he's not doing too bad," Clint said from beside him. "He's been like this since you were last here but that's it, he hasn't been deteriorating or anything, just this."

"Are stings usually like that?" Newt asked, more than a little concerned.

"Not really, but it doesn't seem to be a bad thing for this shank," Clint replied with a tired smile.

Newt wasn't satisfied, and he shared a glance with Minho. "Yeah but-"

"Just leave it Newt," Gally snapped. "Let him have his stroke of luck."

Before Newt or Minho could retaliate, there was a horrible gasp from the bed. They all rounded on Kyle to see the boy struggling heavily against his restraints, his back arched at an unnatural angle and his eyes open to reveal only whites.

Clint and Jeff leapt forward to try and calm him, but Kyle only began to twitch once more, a white foam frothing from his mouth.

"What's happening?!" Newt yelled from where Alby and Minho were holding him back.

"I don't know- Maybe- Maybe-" Clint yelled back as he forced Kyle's chest flat onto the bed.

"Maybe what?!" Minho shouted as he clung to Newt's shoulder.

"Maybe a reaction to the Serum- I don't- I've never seen-"

There was a sickening crack; Kyle had snapped his wrist straining against the straps holding his limbs down.

"We have to untie him, he's not stopping," Jeff said, looking terrified.

"We can't, what if he-"

A strangled scream wrangled its way out of Kyle's throat and he choked on the foam in his mouth.

"You have to, Clint," Gally said as he leapt forward to help, "We gotta untie him."

They fumbled with the straps, Clint still not looking happy with the plan, and the three of them each grabbed a limb as it was released, another Glader jumping up to hold down Kyle's other leg. There was a few minutes of strained struggle before Kyle finally went limp again, screams falling silent and the gurgling foam dripping down his face.

The four Gladers released Kyle's arms and legs and fell heavily to the ground, panting.

"Is that going to happen again?" Gally asked breathlessly.

Clint shook his head and shrugged, obviously as confused as the rest of them.

"Will he be okay?" Minho asked with uncharacteristic tentativeness.

Clint just looked at them blankly. "You guys know I'm not a real doctor, right?"

A surge of anger that he knew was irrational coursed through Newt, and he forced down the urge to snap back. Wrenching his arms out of Minho and Alby's grasp, Newt glared at Kyle's form where he lay, unnervingly still after the last few minutes.

"I'll go get something for the foam," Jeff said meekly, backing away further into the hut to find a cloth.

"Yeah, God forbid he gets _messy, _then we'd really be in trouble," Newt muttered darkly.

Minho slapped his arm. "Play nice," the Runner apprehended.

"Coming from you Minho, that doesn't really mean-"

With a sudden flash of movement, Kyle scrambled off the bed, hit the ground and sprinted past them, disappearing out the door with a deranged gasp. It happened so fast that no one had time to grab him and for the briefest moment none of them moved, mouths agape, before half of them started yelling and the other half broke into a sprint. Newt led the latter group, running at top speed after the boy, not paying attention to what the others were saying, and barely looking where they were headed as he trained his eyes on the rabid boy a few metres in front of him.

Continuous months of running had primed Newt for situations like this one, but Kyle was just as prepared. Minho caught up easily to him, and distantly Newt acknowledged his friend's aptness as Keeper of the Runners, but neither of them could close the last few metres, the shrieking Glader in front of them unnaturally fast.

They had reached half way across the main field when Newt realised there was someone standing stock still in front of them; the Glader was staring at them in shock, presumably frozen at the bizarre sight and not seeming to comprehend the danger of the situation.

"Move!" Minho yelled beside him, waving his hands desperately. "Get out of here G! Go!"

Cold washed over Newt; it was G. In her hands was the meal she had been bringing over to the Med-jack's shack for the boy now sprinting towards her with foam dripping from his mouth. It was too late; driven with some maddened rage, Kyle's outstretched hands collided into her and they both tumbled to the ground. Panic flared in Newt as he saw the boy's fists begin to fly and G's hands retaliating but doing nothing to stop the attack.

Breathing heavily, Newt saw Kyle's fingers close around her neck, not seeming to notice the pain his broken wrist must have been causing; he lifted her up and slammed her head against the ground. She was dazed, Newt could see that even as they closed the final distance, but she threw her fist out blindly, catching Kyle on the cheek and his head snapped to the left. He didn't seem to notice, not loosening his grasp on her neck. Newt and Minho slammed into the boy and seized him by the shoulders as G's breath began to rasp and stutter. Heaving, they were joined by Alby and Gally, who wrenched Kyle's arms away from G's neck and pulled the girl away. Kyle screamed brokenly and tore from them with wild jerks, falling to the ground and floundering around in the grass, panting. He reached the discarded tray of food and suddenly he had leapt back to his feet with a knife in his hands, kicking the tray to the side and backing away from the group with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"Kyle," Newt said in a low voice, raising his hands to beside his head. "Kyle, put the knife down."

The Runner gave no indication that he had understood or even heard him, his short shallow breaths coming fast and loud.

Nick skidded to a halt beside Minho and assumed a similar posture as Newt, hands raised in a weak attempt to placate the boy, but he did not say anything.

G was coughing behind them, Alby and Gally helping her to her feet as she wiped blood off her lip. Kyle's eyes trained on her, and Newt stepped to the side, blocking off Kyle's line of vision and forcing the boy's attention back to him.

"Kyle, come on man, you know me," he tried slowly. "You know me."

"We can help you Kyle," Nick said beside him. "Just put down the knife."

Kyle's eyes were flicking between them like a frightened animal, his two handed grasp on the knife remaining tight and outstretched in front of him, still not reacting to his broken wrist.

Newt took a slow step towards the boy, hands still raised. "Kyle…"

The movement did the opposite of what Newt had intended, and Kyle gave a maddened shriek, the trembling in his hands increased tenfold and his breathing speeding up into ragged gasps. He fell backwards and the knife twirled around in his hands until its hilt faced the Gladers in front of him.

Yells erupted from the group as the boy's intention became clear.

"Kyle no!"

"Kyle!

"Someone grab him!"

They weren't fast enough. Kyle drove the knife into his own throat.

Newt felt Nick push him away back towards Alby, Gally, and G, but his eyes were fixed on Kyle. The boy was holding the knife in place, his eyes bulging and his face almost surprised. There was a gurgle forcing its way out between his pale lips, blood bubbling in the corners of his mouth. Kyle's hands were moving, the knife tearing through his own skin and muscle, blood streaming onto the grass.

Figures engulfed the boy and Newt's view was cut off entirely, but it didn't really matter. The image of Kyle's hands twisting the blade embedded in his neck was seared into Newt's vision, and he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Sound became dulled and blurred except for a loud piercing ring that he wasn't entirely sure anyone else was hearing. It felt like he had been struck in the head. The thought of this comparison took a while to process as he sat dazed on the grass, but when it did he suddenly remembered G.

Blinking slowly, Newt tried to focus his vision and realized that Minho was crouched in front of him, speaking.

"…hear me?"

Newt squinted at him. "What?" His own voice sounded far off and oddly foreign.

"Can you hear me?" Minho repeated, looking concerned. The expression didn't seem to fit right on his face, where a snarky smile or smirk usually rested comfortably.

Newt nodded, looking around in confusion. It was significantly cooler and the sun was lower in the sky. There was no one on the field but them.

"Where is everyone?"

"You've been out of it man, you were just sitting here," Minho said, a tremor in his voice. "It's been hours."

Newt frowned. "Where's Kyle?"

Minho looked at the ground. "They're burying him now."

Newt felt his throat close up and a stinging in his eyes that felt less like he was going to cry and more like he had been punched in the nose. "And G?" He managed to choke out.

The Runner gave a weak half smile. "She's fine- well, you know, as fine as you can be after nearly being strangled. She's with the Med-jacks."

"Those guys have had a busy few weeks," Newt joked emptily.

Minho didn't reply, he just stared at him. Making a point to look at his clasped hands with interest, Newt avoided the gaze and the question that he could feel coming.

"Newt, what-"

"I think I'm going to go see G," Newt said abruptly, cutting Minho off. He stood eyed the sky, calculating that it was about two hours before the Door shut.

"Newt…"  
>"Don't Minho, just don't." Newt walked away, leaving Minho alone in the field. He knew Minho wanted to know why he was reacting the way he was, why it was affecting him this much, but he didn't know how to word it, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to tell anyone in the first place.<p>

With a jolt he realized that they would have a new Glader arriving in just a few days. Newt wondered if anyone would tell the newcomer about Kyle's suicide. He wondered who would be next.

He wondered if it would be him.


	12. Chapter 12 - Casualties

A/N Yo guys, could you tell me if you would prefer shorter chapters uploaded more frequently, or longer chapters with a decent 2-3 days in between? I could quite comfortably do either. Let me know :3

Casualties

"I thought you'd turn up sooner or later," G said in a slightly raspy voice as Newt entered the Med-jack's shack. Jeff was tending to the cut on her brow beside her, and there was a mint smelling cream smeared on the finger shaped bruises on her neck.

Newt offered a weak smile but couldn't think of anything to say. In all honesty, he had only come to visit because he had needed an excuse to get away from Minho's questioning, which was probably selfish considering G was hurt, but really all Newt wanted right then was to be alone.

He realised G was regarding him with a strangely knowing expression. She motioned to the chair next to the bed and he sat heavily in it, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall behind him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked with his eyes still closed.

"Okay," she said briefly. There was a pause. "He uh, he cracked my rib."

Newt's eyes flew open. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," she looked sheepish but Newt couldn't for the life of him understand why. "And there's this big ass wound on the back of my head where it hit the ground."

"And your neck?"

"Bruised, but luckily that's it, I'm told he was injured so that's probably why I can actually talk right now at all."

Newt nodded, but at the offhand mention of Kyle his gaze had fallen on the opposite wall and had hollowed out again. Distantly he noted that Jeff had disappeared without him noticing.

"Newt…"

He shot her a look but she continued.

"You don't have to talk."

His look of warning turned into bemusement.

"I know something's up, if you're here to get away that's okay, you don't have to talk to me."

He stared at her. The expression on her face was earnest but there was something else there as well. Not being able to pin it down, he just nodded slowly and pulled up his knee to rest his head on.

"But…"

Newt looked up at her again, and was surprised and even a little amused to find a look nearing embarrassment on her face. "But I hope you know that you can," she said all at once, avoiding his gaze and becoming oddly preoccupied with her twisting fingers.

The beginnings of a wry smile were worming their ways onto Newt's face and he was about to reply when Clint emerged from the depths of the shack carrying a tray of containers and bandages and shouting rapid orders to Jeff who could be heard tripping over something in the distance.

"Sorry to interrupt but we gotta do something about your ribs G," Clint said brusquely, placing the tray next to the bed. "You can stay if you help," the Med-jack said to Newt without looking up. Feeling a little in the way but suddenly not wanting to leave, Newt got up and approached the bed as Clint slowly pulled up G's shirt to reveal her ribs.

Newt felt his stomach drop a little; purple green bruises mottled the left side of her chest, a dark centre marking where the main fracture lay under her skin. Clint lightly touched his fingers to the centre of the bruise and G hissed in pain.

"Sorry," Clint muttered, "I gotta check if there are any others."

G nodded and screwed her eyes shut as Clint began to press on the surrounding ribs.

"I think you're good, I'm gonna put this on now okay?" Clint showed her the bruise cream and she nodded, lips pressed together firmly.

With an impressively delicate touch Clint applied the cream to the whole of the bruise, and then picked up the bandage. "Newt, can you help her up?"

Newt leaned down and put his arm around G's shoulders, took a firm grasp on the hand that she snaked around his neck, and pulled her up until she was sitting. As Clint began to wrap the bandage around her middle, Newt glanced at the girl's face; she was biting her lip hard, he could see blood on her teeth, her eyes were shut, and she was craning her neck so her forehead was pressed firmly against his arm, like she was trying to put distance between her and the pain.

"Done," Clint said as he fastened the bandage in place and pulled her shirt down. Newt lowered G back onto the bed and she let out a gasp of relief.

"You'll have to stay here overnight, but if it goes well you can leave in the morning, though make sure you take it easy, it'll take a while for the fracture to heal over but if you're careful it won't be too unbearably long. Your neck is probably worse actually, try to spend your breaks lying down and don't put strain on your upper back…"

Clint's spiel of instructions continued in the background as the boy bustled around and Newt still hadn't moved away, G's hand still grasped in his. She hadn't said anything and Clint hadn't noticed, for which Newt was eternally grateful, but he recognised the type of thoughts that were swarming in his head and Newt knew it wasn't a good idea for him to be alone right now.

G pulled her hand from his, making him look up, but she shot him an assuring look as she moved onto her unbruised side and settled into the bed, closing her eyes. Newt was struck with a realization that he too was exhausted, and returned to his chair, casting one last glance at G before he closed his eyes. There was a broken, tired frown on her face, one he thought was also on his own. His last thought before he fell asleep was that maybe it was fitting they were both here together in the Med-jack's shack; even though he didn't have bruises like hers, they were the two Gladers most damaged by the day's events.

* * *

><p><em>Newt was running. He could feel the jolt of his feet hitting the concrete in his head and could hear his own heavy breath, steady and even. There was the familiar burn in his legs and the tightness in his chest, and on his back his pack jostled lightly. The walls of the Maze blurred as he ran past them, ivy, dusty dirt, and cracked stone becoming indistinguishable. He was alone, that was weird, he thought. Usually he ran with Minho. <em>

_Suddenly there was a loud piercing shriek, and behind him he heard the clatter of a Griever's metallic legs against the ground. He gasped and nearly tripped, casting a split second look behind him to see his pursuer; there it was, the monstrous creature not more than a minutes run behind him. Newt sped up, his legs pounding and his heart racing as he glanced around to try and get his bearings – he had to get back or he was going to die._

_He was on a long stretch of Maze, he couldn't see any turns ahead and he realised he hadn't seen any in far too long. He couldn't remember ever being in this part of the Maze, and he felt panic shoot through him on top of his fear. He kept running, the sounds of the Griever growing closer and closer as it gained on him. _

_Still there was no turns, nowhere to go and no way to throw off the monster behind him. He shot another glance over his shoulder and saw that two more Grievers had joined the first, all clicking and hissing and howling like they were excited. _

_Excited to kill him. _

_His breath caught and he nearly tripped again; for a second he could almost swear he heard the Grievers behind him give a scream of exhilaration at his stumble. Still there were no turns, the Maze was endless and without escape._

_They were right behind him now, leaping onto the walls and bounding off them again to gain distance, their shrieks both mechanical and organic. _

_One of them shot out a leg and caught Newt's ankle, and he cried out as he tumbled to the ground. He hit the concrete and rolled, grazing his legs and palms and hitting his head hard. Dazed, Newt tried to figure out why the Grievers hadn't killed him yet. Their screams had been replaced by the sound of wind, and he looked up to see that he was no longer on the floor of the Maze; he was on top of it. _

_Shakily he stood, looking out at the sprawling sight in front of him, behind him, all around him. It went on forever, the walls twisting and snaking and reaching outwards until they disappeared into the horizon. Above him was the sky, for the first time he saw the whole of the sky unabridged by stone walls, open, expansive, and impossibly huge. Gasping, he realised he had nearly stepped off the side of the wall as he had been staring upwards around him. He peered over the edge of the wall and down to the Maze floor, head spinning and his stomach dropping at the height of it. _

"_Jump."_

_He spun around. In front of him was a face he thought he should recognise, but it was the voice that made the form easy to identify. In front of him stood another Newt._

"_What?" He choked out. _

_Other Newt grinned like he had told a joke. "Jump," said Other Newt, flicking his hand at the drop in front of them. _

"_No- Are you crazy? No!"_

_Other Newt laughed nastily. "I know you want to. I know you've been thinking about it."_

_Newt froze, staring at his own face in horror. The figure was still grinning but there was a darkness in his eyes that made him look manic, even dangerous. _

"_They wouldn't care," Other Newt sniggered. "It's not like you do anything anyway."_

_Newt forced his gaze away from the face in front of him and stared hard at his feet, trying to ignore the tears pricking at his eyes. _

"_You know it's true," Other Newt said in a sing song voice. "And they're the only reason you haven't already done it, aren't they?"_

_He couldn't help it, tears were streaming down his cheeks, dripping from his face and falling down to the bottom, down and down and down…_

"_Jump," Other Newt whispered in his ear. _

"_Jump," Kyle whispered in his other. _

"_Jump," said Newt. _

_He stepped off the wall._

Newt awoke with a gasp, sweaty and shaking. He tried to slow his breathing, tangling his fingers in his hair and pulling, trying to use the sensation to ground himself.

"Newt…?" A groggy voice said beside him. In the darkness he could make out G attempting to sit up.

"I'm fine," He choked. "I'm- Go back to sleep."

"Newt, what-"

He stood and left, the warm night air offering no relief. Their voices were still echoing around his head, _jump jump jump jump jump…_

And his own. His own voice joining them. He wished he wanted to cry out and scream, he wished he was forcing down the urge to do so, but he wasn't. There wasn't an impulse to do anything. There was nothing else worth doing left to do.

_They wouldn't care._

_You know it's true._

_Jump._


	13. Chapter 13 - Find a Way to Live

A/N This chapter has trigger warnings for suicide/suicide attempts.

Find a Way to Live

It was the quietest morning Newt had ever had. He awoke with the others, surrounded by bustle and teenage boys all yelling and getting in each other's way, but he didn't hear any of it. At breakfast, he had to ask Minho to repeat himself so many times that the Keeper of the Runners eventually gave a frustrated sigh, threw his hands in the air, and resumed eating his breakfast without another attempt to start a conversation.

A few minutes later, Newt felt someone tap his arm hard and he looked around blankly to see Nick sitting next to him, regarding at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what?"

"He's been like that all morning Nick, good luck," Minho grumbled.

"I said, have you been to see G? She was asking about you," Nick repeated, frowning at him in a manner that made Newt uneasy about what the older boy was picking up – Nick was annoyingly perceptive. Remembering that he actually had to reply to the question this time, Newt shook his head.

"Er, no, I haven't." There was a moment of silence before Newt realised that there was more that he should be saying. "So- so why was she asking?"

"She was worried about you, said you were acting funny last night," Nick replied, still looking at him with that calculating expression.

Newt gave a feeble impression of being confused. "I don't know what she's on about, that girl's a right slinthead sometimes." He gave a weak laugh.

Minho and Nick were both staring at him looking supremely unconvinced. He tried to return to his breakfast and cut off the conversation, but his friends were relentless.

"Come on Newt, it's kind of obvious something's up," Nick pressed.

"It's pretty bloody annoying that you guys don't trust me," Newt threw out, feigning annoyance. It was a low blow but he didn't care. "Seriously guys, slim it, I'm fine."

Nick didn't reply, he only sat back and continued frowning at Newt, and Minho just shook his head into his toast, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "shucking typical." However, most importantly they let it drop, and Newt spent the remainder of breakfast picking apart a piece of bacon with his hands in welcome silence. When Minho stood and nudged his shoulder in indication that it was time to go, Newt wiped the grease from his fingers on his pants and followed his friend out across the field, glad to get away from under Nick's relentless stare.

Newt stood at the entrance to the Maze with the other Runners, gazing down the entrance path and where it split in two a few metres in. He thought about the phantom Maze in his nightmare, the one with no turns and no deviations at all. He thought that maybe they weren't so different after all, and maybe the fact that the real Maze has options gave them all the illusion that there was something solvable to it.

"Newt!"

Minho clapped his hands together in front of Newt's face and he blinked at his friend. Looking extremely pissed off, Minho gave another sigh.

"You're hopeless today man, I can't send you into the Maze with all that klunk in your head," the Keeper said. Newt thought that maybe under the scowl he saw a flicker of concern. For some reason, that sent a wave of annoyance coursing through him and he bristled.

"What the shuck are you talking about, I'm a Runner, being sent into the Maze is kind of my job," Newt snapped.

"Not when you're gonna be putting us all at risk! You really think I want you watching my back for Grievers when you don't even notice me speaking to you from two feet away?" Minho barked back.

The two boys glowered at each other for a moment, the other Runners either looking awkwardly at the ground or watching the scene play out uncomfortably.

"Sit out," Minho said with finality, "You can come back tomorrow."

Newt glared at him. "Minho-"

"Sit out," Minho bit out from between clenched teeth. "And slim the klunk attitude, Newt." He turned away and led the Runners into the Maze, a few looking hesitantly over their shoulders back at Newt like they were expecting him to follow and argue more.

Newt stood at the entrance to the Maze, staring at the group as they split at the first corner and disappeared from sight. He had been angry, but now he couldn't even understand why it had mattered to him so much in the first place. No one enjoyed Running the Maze, and after last night, especially not Newt.

He turned away and stormed off, heading towards the woods where he knew he could escape the notice of the other Gladers.

_Jump._

Newt froze as the memory of his nightmare struck him again, cold and hard. He clenched his jaw and with some determination, forced himself to keep walking.

_Jump._

_I know you want to._

Newt squeezed his eyes together and dragged his hand down his face. He had stopped again, standing paralyzed by his own thoughts in the middle of the field.

_You know it's true. _

Trembling slightly, Newt looked back at the entrance to the Maze. There was no one around. He thought about Kyle, his friend, tearing out his own throat right in front of him and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. He thought about the Maze, the stupid hope he used to get every morning when he entered it, like there was actually a chance that he would find a way out. He thought about the new Greenie about to arrive, another kid thrown into this place with so many different dangers that no kid should ever have to face.

_They wouldn't care._

Distantly, he knew that couldn't be true; he and the other Gladers had been battling their way through life in the Glade for nearly three years and he knew they cared. He _knew _they cared.

_Jump._

Newt drew in a sharp, shaky breath as he realised he'd already made the decision, he was already walking back, already unfastening his pack and dropping it at the foot of the Door, already starting to jog. At the first turn he briefly wondered, left or right? He remembered his dream. It didn't matter.

Ten minutes later he wouldn't have been able to say which way he had turned if someone had asked him. Newt knew the route the other Runners had planned for that day, he just had to be in the right places at the right times and no one would find him. It took a while, but he finally found a patch of ivy that grew high enough. He stood at the base of the plant for a minute, vacantly staring up at the expanse of leaves and twisting stems that had somehow found a way to live on the blank stone face of the Maze wall.

_Jump._

He reached up and grasped a thick vine above his head and heaved himself up, easily finding a foothold, and then another. It didn't take long, or maybe it did and he couldn't tell, but soon enough the ivy above his head was too weak to hold his weight and fell away from the wall when he grabbed at it. He hadn't been paying attention to how high he had been getting, and for the first time he turned around and looked down.

Newt's head spun at the height, it was easily 30 feet, maybe even a little more. He drew in another shaky breath as he stared down at the ground beneath him. Was he really going to do this? He hadn't even said anything to his friends, there wasn't even a shadow of a goodbye, not even to Minho.

_It's not like you do anything anyway. _

Newt closed his eyes and felt the warm breeze ruffle his clothing. Leaning his head back against the sun warmed concrete, he considered climbing down, going back to the Glade, getting some food from Fry, verbally sparring Gally, punching Minho in the shoulder when he got back and grinning like a klunkface at G when she was finally released from Clint's clutches.

_Jump._

He opened his eyes.

_Jump._

Straightening his arms out, Newt leant away from the wall.

_What should my last thought be?_

Newt let go of the ivy.

* * *

><p><em>He was warm. There was warmth around him and softness under his head. Somewhere far away deep in his mind this struck him as strange, but it felt too good for him to properly question it and protest. He felt heavy, his body pulled into the softness with comforting pressure and whatever was under him pushing back, so that his entire form felt perfectly balanced. <em>

_A flicker of unease trembled in his chest, and he felt his face tense and twist. Something was not right, something he wasn't thinking of. The flicker grew, unease and panic bubbling inside him as he failed to remember what it was and then-_

_His arm was moving- no, something was moving his arm for him. He felt a prick and hazily recognised it as an injection. More of the dreamy warmth spread through his veins and he sunk even further into the haze. The flicker in his chest faltered, but it didn't die. He fell unconscious with the bizarre thought that something was wrong with his leg._

* * *

><p>Newt's eyes slowly flickered open, battling through the fog of the painkillers and the grogginess of being asleep for too long. He was awake. Which meant…<p>

A hundred different emotions slashed through him at once, gouging out his chest and leaving a hollow gaping hole in the space between his ribs; pain, shock, sadness, fear, horror, but most of all, disappointment. He rolled the word _disappointment_ around his head, reveling in how poorly it described the chilling blankness that was carving a home inside him.

Newt could tell there was someone sitting in the chair next to his bed. He could hear them talking to him, but he wasn't listening. He let his head drop to the side, turning his face away from them and staring at the wall. He suddenly wasn't tired, but he wanted to sleep again; sleeping felt like taking a break from himself, and Newt didn't want to be himself right now.

Luckily, the drugs in his system overruled his lack of exhaustion, and he soon fell unconscious again. He didn't dream, there were no running or Grievers or walls in his head this time. Instead, it seemed like he had simply time travelled, falling asleep on one day and then instantly waking on the next.

Someone was shaking his shoulder, but again he couldn't hear what they were saying. He didn't really care too much, Newt wasn't ready to face the other Gladers just yet, and it seemed just staying in his cocoon of stagnant comfort was the perfect way to avoid his problems.

He could hear yelling, but from very far away and through a thick wall of glass. He realised he was crying, but he didn't feel sad enough. Something was wrong with his foot, Newt didn't think he could feel it at all. He supposed he should investigate, maybe ask someone, but he didn't care.

It didn't feel like he cared about anything, actually.

* * *

><p>It took him a long time to realise he wasn't asleep, that he was just lying there with his eyes open, staring without seeing at whatever was in front of him, and his mind so quiet that he had for a moment been able to forget it was there. The sound of crying had drawn him from his daze, and he forced the numbness down to look over and investigate who it was.<p>

He had never seen Minho cry before. The boy hadn't noticed him looking, so he quickly turned back around and shut his eyes, guilt twisting its way into the middle of his heart.

Newt couldn't tell if seeing his friend had made him feel better or worse about failing, but the guilt, that he was sure of.

* * *

><p>Someone was saying his name. Newt didn't know how many days he had been lying there, he had spent them phasing in and out of awareness and avoiding confrontation with both his friends and with the reality of his situation. Now, however, someone was saying his name and they sounded angry.<p>

"…talk, please just turn around Newt, for fuck's sake. Newt. Newt!"

The voice gave a cry of frustration and he heard whoever it was storm away but he could still hear their voice somewhere in the distance.

"Please don't be mad at her," a second voice said quietly. "She's not really angry with you, she's just worried." There was a pause. "We all are."

The second voice disappeared and this time he heard a door open and close. As the person left, he heard a stream of voices from outside start speaking all at once-

"What's going on then?"

"How is he doing?"

"Do you know what happened yet?"

"Is he going to be okay?"

The door was pulled shut and Newt once again felt tears on his cheeks.

* * *

><p>"Newt."<p>

He distantly recognised the need to respond, but it was too far away and he didn't move.

"Newt," he heard again, the tremor in the voice striking something in him that was strong enough to fight through the haze and turn around. It was G.

He stared at her face and she stared back. Seeing her was bizarre somehow, like everything that had happened with her had been years and years ago, and a thousand horrible things had happened between then and now but still here she was, exactly the same as when he had gone.

Wait… that wasn't exactly true. He inspected her face, noting the dark circles under her eyes, the gaunt look to her cheeks, her long, tangled, limp hair, the expression in her eyes. She looked haunted.

"Bloody hell G," he croaked. "What the shuck happened to you?"

She stared at him incredulously for a moment and then- taking him entirely by surprise- she burst into an odd mix of tears and laughter.

"You fucking idiot," she half laughed, half sobbed. "You stupid, piece of shit idiot."

He watched her with wide eyes, unable to think of anything to say.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?"

There was the guilt again. He gave her what he hoped was tamed down into a sheepish look but this only seemed to piss her off more. She was trying to rant at him, but the tears streaming down her face were impeding her aggression.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm so fucking mad at you, fuck, don't you ever fucking try anything like that again alright? I'll fuck you up Newt, don't you ever fucking…" G couldn't finish, she was crying too hard.

He was staring, he could tell he was staring but he couldn't help it. He had no idea why this was hitting her so hard, they had only known each other for a month.

"Why…" He began, before realising he was whispering. He cleared his throat and pushed himself up to sit on the bed. "Why are you so upset? It's not like-"

She shot him an impressively dangerous look considering her eyes were red from crying and there were tears all over her face. "Don't finish that sentence Newt, I swear."

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but her gaze lingered.

"You're the first person I met in here," she said.

With a jolt, Newt realised she was right.

"And you're the first person who spoke to me," she continued. "You brought me that food even though I punched you in the face-"

"And threw a shoe at me," Newt grumbled. G ignored him but he saw a flash of a reminiscent grin on her face as she kept talking.

"-you sat with me at that party. You've been there for me since I first got here, you've been taking care of me all that time. And it's not just me, you're always doing stuff for people, you even stuck up for Gally when I was bitching about him even though he's an asshole." She paused and sighed. "I don't know, I don't know if what I'm saying is making sense to you but I just- I just couldn't believe someone who takes care of so many people and is so important here and is the reason I'm okay- I couldn't believe you didn't- that you thought-" She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. "You aren't letting people take care of you back," she said firmly. "And you should. Because everyone here needs you. The others here have been here a lot longer than me and they need you a lot more than I do and I know how much I need you so that must be a lot, okay?"

Newt wasn't looking at her anymore, he had lain back down, fixed his gaze on the roof firmly, and was trying not to cry, but G wasn't done yet.

"I can't make you believe it Newt, I don't think anyone here can make you believe anything." She shifted in her seat. "But… I think maybe I can tell you why you _should_ believe it. The people here… they care about you so much. There's a whole bunch of them permanently camping right outside the door waiting for news about how you are, and most of them don't even know what happened, Minho only told me because I was in here when he first brought you in. You're all he talks about Newt, he and Alby and Nick, they just sit there at meals telling all these stupid stories about you, they're the only ones who know what really happened."

She fell silent and after a minute Newt glanced over at her. She was still sitting there, her hands pressed together between her knees, her mouth trembling and her eyes cast downwards. It was the most he had ever heard her speak, and she seemed to know that, too.

"I know it shouldn't be me saying all this," she whispered, looking like she was going to start crying again. "It should be Minho, or Nick, but they won't say it because- because they think you already know it."

Her words hit him hard, he felt a choking sob force its way out between his lips and he covered his mouth with his hand.

"But I don't think you do. I don't think you would have jumped off that wall if you knew. And it's not because I know you better or anything, I don't, it's just to your friends, to Minho and Nick and Alby, the thought of you not knowing that they all need you and care about you and love you… that hasn't even occurred to them."

Newt screwed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to escape.

"That thought will never occur to them Newt," G said quietly. "And it doesn't make you a bad person or a shitty friend because it occurred to you, it just means that you need to let people take care of you back, the same way you take care of them."

He heard her stand but he couldn't look, he didn't want to cry again.

"You are needed Newt, you really are. And if there's ever anything in your head telling you otherwise, I promise you there are so many people here who will tell you the truth."

She disappeared further into the shack as Newt's attempts to hold back tears finally gave out.

* * *

><p><em>He was dreaming again, the first time since he had woken up in the bed. Newt wasn't often aware of his own dreams but he was now, strolling down the turnless path of the Maze and listening to the advancing Grievers behind him without a trace of fear. <em>

_As their screams grew louder, he turned to face them with an impassive expression. There they were, hundreds of them now, all clacking and clicking and sprinting towards him with the same simple, single purpose minds. There were so many that they began to form a wave, reaching higher and higher up the walls of the Maze, crashing and rolling towards him with a deep resonating rumble interspersed with the Grievers' shrieking. _

_Newt stood before it, small and still. It was only seconds away now, but still he did not flinch. _

_The noise grew louder and louder, the pebbles on the ground next to him quivering, he could feel the sound reverberating in his chest. He held his ground with ease, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath in the second before the wave hit-_

_But it never did. His eyes opened. Newt's mouth twitched into something heading towards a wry smile. So he was back then. _

"_So you're back then." _

_Newt turned to face Other Newt, still here at the top of the wall, still with that twisted smirk on his face. _

"_I'm back," he replied evenly. _

"_Come to try again?" Other Newt said with a sneer. _

_Newt smiled in earnest now, and he saw a flash of surprise in Other Newt's eyes, quickly followed by annoyance. Turning away, Newt looked up at the wide open sky again, struck breathless at the expanse of it once again. He felt different, warmer, lighter. _

"_They care," he breathed, feeling exhilaration dance through him as he did. _

"_What?" Other Newt said sharply. _

_Newt rounded on the phantom boy. "They care," he repeated, almost like a threat. _

"_You don't believe that," Other Newt jeered. "Not really."_

"_Maybe not," Newt conceded, ignoring the knowing scoff from the boy in front of him. "But I will." Other Newt froze. Newt glared back, holding his ground. "I'm going to try."_

"_It won't work," Other Newt said quickly. "It'll never work."_

"_Maybe not," Newt repeated. "But I'm still going to try. That's more that you'll ever be able to say about you." _

_Other Newt took a step back, and Newt advanced. "You'll never bloody change, you're always going to be here at the top of this wall, you're always going to be about to jump off. But you're not me."_

_Other Newt took another step away from him, shocked and panicky. _

"_This is _my_ dream," Newt reminded him. "I don't want you here anymore." _

_With a look of the deepest loathing, Other Newt vanished without another word. Newt let out a long breath and stood at the top of the wall, looking out over the Maze. _

_He was going to try. Even though it seemed impossible, he was going to try. _

_For now, that was enough. _


End file.
